


The Swordsmen of Shu Jing

by silveryink



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Big Brother Sokka (Avatar), Burns, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Worldbuilding, Discussions of War, Family Reunions, Firebending & Firebenders, Gaang (Avatar), Gen, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Linear Narrative, Order of the White Lotus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Piandao is a Good Dad, Waterbender Yue (Avatar), Worldbuilding, Yue (Avatar) Lives, no homophobia in atla, piandao adopts zuko au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 56,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryink/pseuds/silveryink
Summary: [“You must know the pain of losing your firstborn,”Azulon had said.“Look for a suitable guardian for the boy, or give him to Iroh, if you’re so worried about the line of succession. I’m sure you’ve been training your son adequately; he should be able to catch up to Lu Ten soon enough.”Giving Zuko to Iroh wouldn’t be enough, no – the boy would still be in the palace, still a wrench in his plans, a weakness to eliminate some way or the other.]Or, the one where Piandao adopts Zuko.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Jeong Jeong & Zuko (Avatar), Jeong Jeong/Piandao (Avatar), Katara & Yue (Avatar), Order of the White Lotus & Zuko (Avatar), Piandao & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Yue (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 343
Kudos: 890





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was born when I started writing an Earthbender!Lu Ten fic, and then I couldn't let it go. I'll be updating this once a week, mostly (hopefully on Thursdays/Fridays), so my updates should be pretty regular. A lot of the story is already written, but if I find that it works better changed, my update schedule might change accordingly.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied character death, implied child abuse

The news reaches Shu Jing almost entirely too late.

Piandao counts himself lucky to have all his connections in the palace, because the alternatives would have been absolutely awful. To be fair, this situation isn’t one he expected to find himself in, but despite how sudden and life-changing it is, he has no regrets about the choice he made that landed him here. He isn’t even sure whether Zuko holds his rank anymore, but _rank_ has never mattered to him, not even the time he’d been inscripted into the Fire Nation Army and promptly deserted.

He knows that the only reason Ozai let him take in Prince Zuko is because of the _dishonour_ his desertion caused him. Ursa wrote to him multiple times over the years, and it has always been blatant to him that the man has never once appreciated his older child. Whether he loves his younger one is also in serious doubt, but Princess Azula seems to be relatively safe for the moment, so Piandao ignores the dread pooling in his chest and prioritises the well-being of his old student.

Zuko greets him formally at the gates, his belongings already packed into two large trunks, like Ozai has been ready to give up his son the minute he made his announcement. Or perhaps it’s a sign of Zuko’s intuition and _he_ had packed everything that first night, ready to leave a troubled home. Piandao doesn’t know which one is worse.

The boy is awfully subdued even though he keeps up the correct amount of chatter expected of someone in his standing, and doesn’t even look back as he helps his new guardian load the trunks into the carriages they’re taking back to his estate. He does, however, watch as they pull away from the palace’s lavish gardens, so Piandao leaves him to his thoughts for a while and lets him be.

He wonders what Ursa has to say about this arrangement.

* * *

_“Ozai.”_

_He turns from the window to face her. “Ursa. What do you want?”_

_“I know what you promised the Fire Lord.”_

_Ozai cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”_

_Ursa scowls at him. “I have an offer for you. One where you end up where you’ve always wanted to be.”_

_“In exchange for?”_

_“Leave Zuko alone.”_

* * *

“Prince Zuko,” Piandao calls gently, not wanting to alarm the child when he wakes. “We’ve reached my estate.”

“Already?” Zuko mumbles groggily, rubbing at his eyes and blinking rapidly.

“You’ve been out for most of the journey, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Oh.”

The two of them unload Zuko’s belongings together and watch as the hired carriage speeds off away from the estate. The permanence of this decision is somehow more evident now that there isn’t a direct way back to the caldera. Piandao rests a hand on his ward’s shoulder, heart sinking when the boy jumps a little. He’d slowly gotten Zuko accustomed to accepting gentle physical affection from anyone other than Ursa while he’d been under his tutelage, and he’s _furious_ that all that work was undone so easily by Ozai.

Not for the first time, Piandao wishes he could run a sword (or a few dozen) through the new Fire Lord’s heart. And not for the last time, he breathes for a moment and lets that anger subside.

“It’s been a long day, I won’t keep you from resting any more. I could have your things brought to your room for you if you want to wash and change first? You left a set of your clothes here by accident last time, and I’m sure I still have them in your old chambers.”

He’d had them cleaned as soon as he decided that he was going to adopt the prince, not wanting to take any risks with what Ozai might have let him carry upon practically disowning him. _An educational retreat_ , Piandao mentally scoffs. Ozai would have thrown Zuko to the streets if it weren’t for Ursa and how badly the nation would react to finding out.

Zuko hesitates a little, but nods. “Yeah. Thanks, Master Piandao.”

And with that, he sprints into the manor. Piandao huffs lightly, at least the boy remembers that he doesn’t need to maintain any decorum past basic human respect within these walls.

He hauls the trunks up to Zuko’s old chambers along with his only attendant, hovers for a moment, uncertain what to do, and mentally shakes himself before heading down to his study.

He needs to write to the White Lotus.

* * *

_“The child means nothing to me,” he dismisses casually. “What did you have in mind? It must be_ something _of a plan, if it will get me on the throne despite the Fire Lord’s wishes.”_

_Her frown deepens. “I was an apprentice in an apothecary back in Hira’a. I’m offering you rare and undetectable poison that only I know to make.”_

_“Hmm. And will this poison leave behind evidence of an unnatural death?”_

_“No, it won’t. It induces sleep first, so it will appear to be entirely natural.”_

_“I see.” Ursa hands him a vial of clear liquid, and Ozai knows that the entire thing is meant to be used. He carefully slips it into his sleeve and nods at her._

_“Very well. I swear by the Dragon Throne that your son will be left alone, as per your requests.”_

* * *

Three days after their arrival at Shu Jing, Piandao notices that for all his attempts to be upbeat, the former prince (he confirmed his loss of rank the morning after they’d arrived) is rather morose. Then he internally kicks himself for the observation, because of _course_ he’d be morose – just the week before, he lost his cousin, his grandfather, his mother (who might either be missing or dead – neither or them are sure), and is officially estranged from the rest of his family. According to his contacts in the Order of the White Lotus, General Iroh appears to be missing from the scene, possibly due to his grief.

Piandao is going to make that man a cup of tea if he ever visits the estate in the future.

Meanwhile, his job is to figure out what in the four nations’ names he’s supposed to do with his ward.

Obviously, he’s going to continue sword-fighting – there was never really any doubt about that. If Piandao knows one thing about this whole affair, it’s that Zuko will end up becoming a far more skilled swordsman than anyone he’s ever seen, Piandao himself included. Oh, and there’s the matter of getting him a firebending instructor, though he has no doubt that he can rope one of his friends from the White Lotus into doing so. Maybe his old commanding officer who deserted a few years ago might be willing to help, since Piandao is essentially outside the sphere of Fire Nation influence as of his own military ‘disgrace’.

To be fair, it was only desertion by a few days – he had almost served the mandatory period to full term when he’d faced active combat and instantly realised why he didn’t want to be doing whatever the war was doing. The years immediately following this realization had been filled with a lot of travelling, but Piandao is immensely grateful to the spirits for letting him seek out that information for himself. He owes it to Jeong Jeong for the lack of documentation about the act, and means to thank him for that when he sees him next.

He hopes that the war will end before Zuko has to fight in it, but it’s a slim thing. He also hopes that being the ward of someone who is essentially an outcast (if only to the authorities and vultures in the capital) will keep him _out_ of the spotlight. He’s not sending another kid into war, especially not this kid – _his_ kid now, Piandao corrects. Spirits, he hadn’t expected to come out of this with a child of his own.

Well, at least he knows that it’s going to be interesting.

* * *

_Dispatching Ursa is far easier than should be expected of a descendant of Roku, but in this instance her weakness is an advantage rather than a hindrance, so Ozai won’t complain. Slipping the poison into Azulon’s drink under the guise of bowing and apologizing for his petition is equally simple, and he is very nearly disappointed that one of Sozin’s line is just as fallible._

_(Alas, foresight was never one of Ozai’s strengths. Nor was the concept or irony, though his son might have something to say about_ dramatic _irony on a cosmic scale)_

_Now, to take care of Zuko. He’d promised not to harm the boy yet, and despite how tempted he is to be rid of his firstborn, he isn’t without honour. No, he’ll stick to Azulon’s decree here, it would be much cleaner this way._

“You must know the pain of losing your firstborn,” _Azulon had said._ “Look for a suitable guardian for the boy, or give him to Iroh, if you’re so worried about the line of succession. I’m sure you’ve been training your son adequately; he should be able to catch up to Lu Ten soon enough.”

_Giving Zuko to Iroh wouldn’t be enough, no – the boy would still be in the palace, still a wrench in his plans, a weakness to eliminate some way or the other._

_It has to be someone else – not one of the nobles, they’ll steer clear once they assume Zuko is out of his favour; and losing his rank as Prince (or perhaps Crown Prince, now) would do the trick rather nicely._

* * *

Two months into Piandao’s new status as Zuko’s guardian, he finds him a firebending teacher. It’s one of his old students, who happened to join the Yuyan Archers a few years after she’d completed her qualifying examinations. It was rare for a bender to join the elite archer squad, but not entirely unheard of – though it was more well-known that it was incredibly uncommon for one of them to agree to teach someone outside their squads.

It goes far better than he’d expected. Zuko’s old teacher from the time he’d spent training in Piandao’s estate a few years ago had declined to return to his position, and Hana is discreet enough to make it work. It’s a good arrangement, at least for the immediate future. He’s definitely going to write to Iroh when he returns from wherever he’s gone off to. After giving the man enough time to grieve, of course.

Zuko deals with his grief rather silently, like it’s something not worth mentioning. It takes Piandao a few tries, but eventually he manages to convince him to _talk to him_ if he needs to, or even if he just wants to. He has to talk Zuko down from pushing himself too hard several times, _again_ , like all his work there had been entirely unraveled and undone – and when he hears about the grueling firebending lessons his father had put him through at the palace, Piandao genuinely, seriously considers the ramifications of murdering the man.

He’ll stab him with a rusty blade, one that would definitely bring in some nasty infection with the wound. Spirits, he’ll stab him multiple times, and coat the blade with the slowest, most agonizing poison he can find that has no cure.

It’s pure cruelty to expect a child to achieve absolute perfection at any skill they’re not already an expert in, and to make it the bare minimum… it’s barbaric. Piandao wants to scream.

Instead, he carefully re-teaches his old lessons about not exerting oneself too much lest they tire themselves out too soon, impeding their practice in the future, and so on. It pains him to learn that a half-exhausted state is how Zuko normally attends his lessons, and even sadder to realise that his insecurity about his sloppy forms stem entirely from not getting enough rest in between.

It’s true that any skill can fade with lack of practice, but too much practice wears down a person as well. It doesn’t affect the skill so much as the body, and the inevitable decline of one’s physical health is, in Piandao’s opinion, not worth the initial effort. He’d much rather see a steady effort producing steady results than reap everything in the first few times themselves.

Spirits, at the rate he’d been going, Zuko would have rendered himself incapable of doing anything more strenuous than Intermediate forms for the rest of his life. That he’s stopped now is a minor comfort to Piandao – he means to get him enough rest and relaxation to last _lifetimes_. Zuko’s _ten_ , all this practice and lessons all the time cannot be healthy –

Well. The theater doesn’t seem like a bad idea after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Jeong Jeong weaves around the tents and makes a beeline for the hawkery. Piandao never sends him letters through the courier, since they’re probably also laced with White Lotus correspondence, and they usually arrive right by the clock. His partner is nothing if not incredibly particular about these things, and given the general chaos of the army, Jeong Jeong appreciates the predictability.

But something’s wrong.

The letter is late.

“Admiral,” one of the soldiers calls up from the edges of the camp. “This just came through for you, the couriers said it was from Shu Jing.”

Okay, so the _courier_ was late. It’s odd that Piandao would send in their correspondence through official means, but stranger things have happened before. Jeong Jeong accepts the letter, a little thicker than normal, and dismisses the private. The man bows and hastily backs out into the training fields, evidently having spotted something going awry around the newest recruits. Jeong Jeong frowns at the seal – it’s not Piandao’s – but breaks it open anyway.

 _Admiral Jeong Jeong,_ it starts, and only gets worse from there.

The Crown Prince had written to him. Or, to be specific, the _new_ Crown Prince, because the old one had apparently lost his life in the war. _Prince Lu Ten is dead, and General Iroh has been declared missing,_ Zuko had written.

Apparently, the boy is living with Piandao now by decree of the Fire Lord, which strikes him as odd. But that’s where the second letter comes in, this one from Piandao himself, and Jeong Jeong can safely admit when he’s done reading the whole thing that he has never been angrier in his life. The Fire Lord clearly doesn’t know what he’s doing with a boy like Zuko – he’d only seen the kid a few times while he’d trained under Piandao, but that had been enough to get a solid impression of his stature. The letter starts to smoulder and Jeong Jeong forces himself to unclench his fists. He breathes out slowly, and fire breaches the exhale.

He needs to go home.

* * *

_Jeong Jeong –_

_If you’re reading this, you will likely have read Prince Zuko’s letter first, and it should provide some amount of knowledge of the political situation in the Fire Nation right now. If you haven’t yet, I hope you’ll return to this once you have done so._

_Fire Lord Azulon was proclaimed dead less than a week after Crown Prince Lu Ten’s death, and the new reigning monarch ordered the nobles in the area to take in his eldest son, as a mark of following his father’s last order before his death. Now, I’m not entirely sure what that means, but Zuko seems to think the worst of it. I heard of this decree through one of my former students, I’m sure you remember Lady Mai – she wrote to me the day she heard the news, and I hastened at once to the capital, offering to take in Zuko as my ward._

_Even now, I’m not sure exactly what his rank and standing is – there have been no official announcements about the removal of his status, but he seems to be disowned in all but name. I have no doubt that Fire Lord Ozai would have thrown him to the streets with nothing but the clothes on his back, had I not reached in time…_

* * *

“Hello, Fat,” Jeong Jeong greets as he strides past the man, leaving him spluttering in his wake.

The corridors of the estate have practically been etched into his mind, and he winds through them with practiced ease until he reaches the right door. Piandao’s study generally has the door closed when he has students living with him, but Jeong Jeong supposes that it’s different with Zuko, since he’s basically adopting the boy. Still, he knocks and leans against the doorframe, trying not to grin at the sight of his partner – even if the sight is his back, considering he’s facing the window currently opposite the door.

“I know I said I’d teach you the next _dao_ forms, but I have to finish filling out these forms,” Piandao says absently.

“Since when did I need to learn the _dao_?”

Piandao stiffens and nearly knocks over his desk in his haste to stand. “ _Jeong Jeong_?”

Yeah, he can’t help it. He smiles. “Hi.”

Before he knows it, he’s being bundled into a firm and comforting embrace. He leans into it, holding his partner back just as securely. Spirits, he’s missed this man.

“What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be training the 38th Division, or something?”

“Or something,” Jeong Jeong says, pulling back to get a good look at the swordsman. “I took a leave of absence. I want to help you figure this out.”

Piandao frowns. “Zuko’s a good kid,” he starts, but the firebender shakes his head.

“I’d rather be here until we figure out where we stand in this. Besides, if you’re planning on adopting the boy – don’t give me that look, I know you’ve always wanted to – shouldn’t I try to get to know my future kid?”

Piandao flushes and groans. “You’re impossible.”

“And I’m _here_.”

“That you are,” he grumbles, but there’s a smile behind the words. Jeong Jeong grins at him, and Piandao snorts.

“If you’re planning on staying here for a while, you might as well make yourself useful,” Piandao says.

“What–”

“Zuko’s been asking me about what his firebending lessons will look like from now, and his old tutors have declined the requests to continue teaching him. And now the spirits have brought you here, so you might as well take over.”

“Piandao–”

* * *

_Master Piandao –_

_I’m writing to you on behalf of one Prince Zuko, who I believe may be in perilous danger. You may have heard recently about the Fire Lord’s announcement – Fire Lord Ozai, that is – to maintain his father’s last decree before his unfortunate demise, and give his firstborn over to other guardianship. Perhaps the news hasn’t yet reached Shu Jing; but it is incredibly important that you learn of it at the earliest._

_I have reason to believe that none of the nobles – my family included – are willing to take in the prince and raise him as part of their household. I also have reason to believe that the Fire Lord will not hesitate to abandon his son at such a time of grief – in fact, I fear he may already have plans of his own to act on when the time is right…_

__

* * *

“That doesn’t sound right,” Zuko says with a frown. “The war exists because people opposed Fire Nation rule.”

“Fire Nation rule isn’t necessarily a good thing _outside_ the Fire Nation,” Jeong Jeong says dryly. Piandao glares at him before turning back to his ward.

“Jeong Jeong is right,” he admits. “People want to be governed by their community’s laws. Remember how you found the customs of Shu Jing strange after living in the palace for so long?”

“Yeah, it’s really informal here.” Probably not compared to the other nations, but _definitely_ compared to the capital. “I don’t understand. We’re only trying to rule them because we’re trying to spread what’s good about the Fire Nation to them.”

Piandao exchanges a glance with Jeong Jeong and frowns.

“I wouldn’t say so,” the admiral says carefully. “It’s about control. You have power over every other place, and therefore fewer people will oppose you at every turn.”

“Ah,” Zuko says with a sage nod. “It’s like when Azula used to make us all listen to her when we played together. She’d always make me play the Dark Water Spirit when we enacted _Love Amongst the Dragons_. She knew I always wanted to play the Dragon Emperor, though.”

“Sure,” Piandao allows. “It’s like that. It can’t have felt nice to you that time, right? Imagine how whole communities would react when being told how to live their lives.”

Zuko’s frown reappears. “That doesn’t sound so great.”

“It isn’t,” Jeong Jeong agrees. “Like I said, it’s about control. Get enough people to fear you, and they’ll do whatever you say.”

Zuko’s eyes widen. “But that’s not _right_! The Fire Lord is supposed to look out for the Fire Nation, it’s not the other way around! It’s–” he breaks off, looking absolutely terrified, and his hands fly up to cover his mouth as though to keep himself from spilling out his conclusion.

“Zuko, you can speak freely here,” Piandao assures him gently. “And if anyone were to catch wind of this – which they won’t – we can call this an exercise in thought. Do you understand me?”

A small nod. “The – the war is _wrong_ , isn’t it?”

The older men exhale in unison, and Piandao folds Zuko into a hug. “It is. I’m sorry you had to find out this way, I’ve been meaning to have this discussion for a while now, but I knew it was going to be hard.”

“‘S okay,” Zuko mumbles into his shoulder. “It’s good that I know.”

Piandao looks up and finds the same soft expression of pride on Jeong Jeong’s face that he feels in his heart, and smiles. “That it is.”

Zuko pulls away. “Then we need to find a way to stop it. There has to be some sort of resistance, or – or someone we can go to. We can’t do it alone.”

Jeong Jeong shuts his eyes and tilts his head to the ceiling. “Not this,” he mutters. “Not _now._ ”

“We have to tell him,” Piandao says, amused. Zuko watches them both curiously.

“Tell me what?”

Jeong Jeong glares at his partner, but answers Zuko nonetheless. “Have you ever heard of the Order of the White Lotus?”

* * *

_“Have I told you about the time I quit the army early and almost got charged for desertion?”_

_… judging by the wide-eyed, startled look on Zuko’s face, he apparently hadn’t. Might as well correct that now._

_“Right. You may remember that I told you about how most soldiers outside noble families are conscripted?”_

_A nod._

_“It’s easier to recruit kids from orphanages. Their parents won’t need them to work and provide an additional income, since they’re of age anyway, and while being a soldier can pay enough to sustain one, maybe two people, it’s not sustainable for larger families. So they become couriers or medics, don’t serve on the front lines, and when the mandatory period of service is over, return to their homes._

_“Kids from orphanages don’t have that security. They’ve aged out of those homes anyhow, and the army provides them a source of wages that can get them started on living their life. I was one of those kids. A little desperate, with nowhere else to go. We… weren’t supposed to go to the front lines, except maybe for backup.”_

_“It’s because you were a nonbending regiment,” Zuko mutters._

_“I… suppose?”_

_“Father made me learn military strategy when Uncle and Lu Ten left for Ba Sing Se,” Zuko confides. “Most backup divisions are nonbenders, or they’re usually sent to deliver supplies. Blasting jelly, perishable supplies… things that can be easily replaced. I thought it was stupid, nonbenders can be just as tough as firebenders.”_

_Piandao arched a brow, slightly amused by his consternation. Zuko flushes._

_“… I meant Mai and Ty Lee.”_

_“Who?”_

_“Azula’s friends. Mai throws knives, and Ty Lee’s a chi-blocker. Or she’s training to be.”_

_Well, he already knows Mai. It’s Ty Lee he’s more curious about. Chi-blocking…_

_“And you too, obviously, but they’re both a year younger than me, and already really dangerous. It’s stupid,” he repeats._

_“Firebenders do have tactical advantages,” Piandao says. “While it may be foolish to dismiss non-benders, most of us wouldn’t have faced active combat before, especially not against earthbenders. We know how to deal with weapons, but rocks are an entirely different thing. But that isn’t my point. I saw my first battle towards the end of my mandatory service period, and I was planning on leaving anyway, but I couldn’t stand… being there, after the front lines.”_

_Zuko looks curious, but has the sense not to ask, which is just as well. Piandao would rather not relive that horrible memory, especially now, with the threat of his partner being sent to another battlefield._

Or a slaughtering ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: Just wanted to share that 'Piandao trained Mai' is not originally my headcanon, the first time I saw it was in [this post](https://silveryinkystar.tumblr.com/post/631434841946275841/okay-since-piandan-seems-to-have-taught-everyone). It isn't exactly how I imagined her being under his tutelage for this fic in particular, but I like to source my ideas. I'll also be linking this post in the next chapter when I update it next weel.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied physical abuse (burning), implied violence as part of war (41st Division)  
> None of these actually happen 'on-screen' but this chapter kind of deals with heavy subjects, so I thought it would be safer to have the warnings anyway.
> 
> A lot of you guys mentioned the idea of Piandao training Mai in the comments (which were all so lovely, by the way <3), and I wanted to source the original idea once again for anyone who might not have seen it: it's based on [this post](https://silveryinkystar.tumblr.com/post/631434841946275841/okay-since-piandan-seems-to-have-taught-everyone).
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Contrary to the beliefs of those who know what transpired during the week of half the royal family’s deaths, Zuko was _not_ , in fact, publicly disowned by Fire Lord Ozai. He still returns to the palace a few times a year to keep up with major public appearances, lest anyone catch wind of his actual arrangements. Initially, he’d been far more distraught about what these arrangements implied. Now, he’s far more settled into his new life and loves it.

It helps that he’s stopped thinking of the Fire Lord as his father. Piandao, despite only being his guardian for two years, has been extraordinarily more fitting for the title than Ozai had been in ten years.

At least he’ll get to see Uncle during this visit. He’d skipped Uncle’s return last year by way of a broken bone from falling off a tree he’d been climbing to return a bird to its nest.

Piandao sends him off with his usual warning to be careful, and the minute Zuko reaches the palace he finds himself being ushered into white robes, the ones with gold trim that he’d last worn during Lu Ten and Fire Lord Azulon’s funeral. He knows that they’re honouring some division of the army after a brutal loss, but hadn’t been told anything else about it.

He doesn’t say a word, merely lets the attendants fuss over his mourning clothes and silently fixes his headpiece to his head. He waves them away when they’re done and laces up his boots slowly, giving himself time to think and compose himself. He’s not great at keeping his impulses under control, but back at the estate, he’s learned a few tricks to keep it delayed until it’s safe to bring it up.

Azula sneers at him when he walks into the courtyard. Uncle takes one look at him and pulls him into an embrace. Zuko hugs him back, leaning into the familiar warmth.

“I’m sorry about Lu Ten,” he murmurs, careful that he’s not overheard. He hasn’t gotten the opportunity to say it till now, but he _means_ it.

Uncle squeezes him a bit tighter for a moment, and Zuko takes it without squirming for once – he hasn’t seen the man in _years_ , he’d missed him as much as he’d missed his cousin.

_And now he’s here. I can write to him when I go back_.

“It’s good to see you, nephew. Your father told me that you were living with Swordsmaster Piandao now, by way of an arrangement…?”

Zuko nods, trying not to wince at the use of the word _father_ with a man who’s certainly failed as one. In the last three years, he’s slowly come to realise just how badly Ozai had treated him as a child, with the help of a few friends in town and the aghast looks on their faces whenever he mentioned something that had, apparently, been out of the ordinary for parents to do. He’d barely called the man ‘father’ after being sent to live with Piandao, anyway – the Fire Lord had decreed otherwise in his hateful spiel before sending him away. Jeong Jeong had nearly blown up the training ground when Zuko had told him about it, and while he’d been thoroughly spooked by the incident at the time, he’s glad to have the man’s support now.

“Yeah, I am. I’m sorry I didn’t visit earlier.”

Iroh waves it away, though the curious gleam stays. There’s a flash of gold at the corner of his eye, and Zuko automatically straightens and bows to the Fire Lord, as per his customary greeting. A little deeper than necessary for a prince, but Zuko knows the difference between _laying low_ and insult. He’s sure his uncle notices, but neither of them comments on it when Ozai sweeps by with hardly any acknowledgement.

Zuko moves to stand beside Azula when she plants herself next to her father. Iroh slowly shifts to stand by Zuko’s other side, and the gesture is familiar and reassuring enough that he can relax a little bit through the Fire Lord’s speech. He still hasn’t said anything about who died, though, and Zuko knows better than to ask.

“… our tribute to the 41st Division of the Army, who sacrificed themselves in a noble cause to ensure our victory…”

Zuko’s blood runs cold. _Oh, no_.

Jeong Jeong had been ordered to command the 41st. Zuko had known, but he hadn’t been able to stop it. And now…

_Spirits, I hope I don’t have to break the news at Shu Jing._

* * *

_The advantage of fighting in tunnels, Jeong Jeong reflects, is that even when one faces off earthbenders, picking strategic points can provide easy escape routes._

_Of the three hundred soldiers that made up the 41 st division, only seventy survived._

Not enough _._

_Jeong Jeong carefully hoists his wounded subordinate over his shoulder and makes sure that they aren’t being followed before he moves through the long, winding tunnel to the opening at its end. The one that hopefully leads to the medics’ tents._

_There’s no going back now. He’s not risking the lives of his people to fight a fruitless war, and the survivors of this ambush would no doubt be displeased to be shoved into yet another combat situation. No, it’s better to leave them be as_ presumed dead _._

_Piandao would be proud of the tactical move. The 41 st don’t have family to return to, mostly, and those who did are currently buried under rock tunnels to stay there for eternity._

_He’ll have to conduct funeral rites for them later._

Piandao _. How in Surya’s name is he supposed to tell Piandao about this ambush? True, he’d expected some sort of disaster brought about by sending fresh troops into an experienced soldier’s battlefield, but this… this was a_ massacre _._

_It seemed almost too convenient, too._

* * *

“Father wants to speak with you in private, before you leave.”

Zuko frowns at Azula, a little annoyed at being pulled away from his conversation with Mai. “Why?”

She shrugs. “He didn’t say. But he might be thinking of finishing what Azulon started, you know. A little sacrifice never hurt anyone.”

Zuko almost laughs. _That’s what the 41st were, in the Fire Nation’s eyes. There’s nothing honourable about slaughter._

“I’ll go,” he grumbles, storming off. He takes a moment to compose himself outside the Fire Lord’s throne room and enters.

“Fire Lord Ozai,” he greets formally with yet another bow.

“Do you know why I summoned you?”

“No, sir.”

“Hmm. I thought you were aware that the famed Admiral Jeong Jeong was a part of the 41st, but I suppose your… guardian, might not have said so.”

“I knew he was sent to command a division which was to be sent out to active combat, after years of training recruits,” Zuko says carefully. “I didn’t realise that meant the 41st.”

“And how do you feel about this loss, _Prince_ _Zuko_?”

It’s the first time he’s used the title in years.

Fury _boils_ inside him and threatens to spill over.

“I mourn the loss of our loyal soldiers,” he grits out, struggling to maintain composure. He clenches the fabric of his clothes tightly to keep sparks from flaring. “They gave everything they had to serve our nation. The spirits would bless them in the afterlife for their honour in life.”

“A pretty speech. But I meant the loss of Admiral Jeong Jeong.”

Still facing the ground, the tears burn unseen in Zuko’s eyes. He’d hoped he thought wrong, but apparently he wasn’t that lucky.

“You see, a source of mine revealed recently that Admiral Jeong Jeong is alive.”

His head jerked upwards, eyes wide.

“He has been charged with desertion, and will be executed if he sets foot in the Fire Nation ever again.”

“No…”

“Oh, I’m afraid so. It’s a shame about the soldiers, really. We could have used the numbers, but the loss was tactically sound.”

The fury boils over.

“You _planned the ambush_?”

Ozai raises a brow, mildly surprised at the outburst. “Every tactician must make sacrifices of the few for the good of the many.”

“Those soldiers did _nothing_ wrong! They were fresh out of training; they couldn’t have defended themselves if they’d known what was coming and had time to prepare for it! Setting up this plan was – was _cruel_ , and wrong. They were willing to lay their lives on the line for the Fire Nation, and you _made them do it_. You took that choice away from them. How could you condone such a thing and pretend that it’s okay? It’s _dishonourable_.”

When Zuko returns to himself, he realises what he’s done.

He just yelled at the Fire Lord.

_Agni, help me._

Ozai doesn’t yell. He doesn’t say anything, simply rises and strides down till he’s merely a few paces away from Zuko’s kneeling form. Zuko stills, and all the breath rushes out of him. Oh, he’s in for it now.

“ _Dishonourable_? The reason you live outside the palace is because of your dishonour, and it is by pure mercy that I haven’t struck you off the family tree. Your rank is intact not through any means of _honour_ , but because I stayed my hand. The only reason you are _here_ is because of your mother, but I’m beginning to regret my oath to her.”

Ozai inhales deeply. “You think you know of loyalty and honour? Perhaps you might need a little _revision_ of your lessons.”

Zuko frowned and looked up at the words, just in time to see the hand cupping flame come bearing down at him.

* * *

_“Sir, you might want to listen to this.”_

_Jeong Jeong frowns but leaves the tent behind Private Hana. “I don’t have time to gossip, and that’s the only thing one can find around here.”_ Except halfway decent medical supplies, of course.

_“Admiral…”_

_He frowns at his subordinate. Something must truly be wrong if she is_ this _agitated, so he’ll listen – if only to assuage her nerves._

_Private Sadao waits a few paces away from the tent, looking equally pensive, and Jeong Jeong barks an order for the man to speak up. He needs to go on a run for more medical supplies, they’re almost out –_

_“What did you say?”_

_“It’s more of a ‘friend-of-a-friend’ rumour than something spreading around a town,” Hana says shakily. “But apparently the source is a palace guard.”_

_“The ambush was planned… Agni, this is a mess.”_

_“With all due respect, Admiral, I don’t think I can fight for a Fire Lord who would rather sacrifice his people than see them through a victory,” she admits quietly._

_Jeong Jeong sighs. “I don’t think I can, either,” he agrees, and her eyes widen. “I believe while the others are healing, we can draw plans to disappear somewhere safe, away from the Fire Nation.”_

_Her eyes glass over for a moment with tears. “That… that might be for the best. If word gets out that we deserted…”_

_“It won’t,” Jeong Jeong assures. “Most of the world probably assumes that the 41 st is dead, and eventually I’ll have to report back to the Fire Lord. I won’t make a mention of your survival in the records.”_

_“Sir, you’ll be hunted down!”_

_“Not if they can’t find me.”_

* * *

“What the _hell_ happened at the palace?” Piandao thunders. If the man were a firebender, Iroh thinks, he might well be breathing fire right now.

“I have no idea, but I can guess,” he responds grimly, looking at the unconscious teenager in the bed below them.

“I thought he was only staying for the Fire Lord’s address and the public appearances?”

“He did,” Iroh says slowly. Why did Zuko not live in the palace anymore, is the question he wants to ask, but it can wait till after his own version of events is told. It isn’t _urgent_ , unlike the fate of the prince’s life. “I was going to talk to him for a while in private, to ask what had happened when I journeyed through the spirit world, but when I asked around I found out that he was meeting with the Fire Lord.”

Piandao’s expression turns murderous. Iroh is glad that he isn’t exactly on the receiving end of that glare, but he thinks his safety might hinge on what he says next.

“To my surprise, the Fire Lord passed me in the corridors as I was making my way there – I meant to wait for Zuko and accompany him to the gardens to speak, since I knew he was fond of them as a child. But Zuko was still inside, so I thought I’d investigate, and I found him… like this.”

_Like this_ is the understatement of the century. A good third of Zuko’s face had been scorched clean off when Iroh found him in the throne room, crumpled and unmoving on the floor. The guards hadn’t even tried to stop him as he barreled past them to the infirmary and ordered for the fastest carriage they had to take them to Shu Jing. As soon as Zuko was out of immediate danger, he’d taken him and fled to Piandao’s estate, since he apparently had lived there since the end of the siege.

Iroh’s blood runs cold when he makes the connection. _Ozai, what did you do_?

“ _Like this_ ,” Piandao repeats dully. “No one stopped it.”

“No,” he says heavily, shoulders slumping. “I wish I’d been just a little faster, but who knows what might have happened then.”

“Hmm. Who knows, indeed.”

Zuko groans softly just then and shuffles a little, causing both men to startle. His fists clench in the sheets a bit and relax when the pain medicine continues to do its work, but Iroh can’t help how his heart sinks through the floor when he looks back at the bandages wrapping around his nephew’s eye.

“Old friend, I think it’s time we talked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... sorry?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chanting softly* filler chapter filler chapter filler chapt-  
> Is it normal for filler chapters to be longer than the average plot chapter? No idea, but it just. Happened
> 
> Also, in case it hasn't been clear in previous chapters - all sections that are italicized are flashbacks or things that happened in the past. In Ch3, the aftermath of the 41st comes pretty close to the real-time events of the funeral, but even that would technically be classified as the (very) recent past. They'll generally be related to the chapter, so it probably won't be completely out of the blue.
> 
> I'm mostly experimenting with this technique, and I've written exactly one other fic with these sort of alternating scene cuts, but even that had been between exactly two subplots - this is a pretty new style for me, and so far I'm liking how I get to work on exposition and plot without it becoming too subject-heavy all at once.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

“Your messages aren’t secure,” Zuko announces one day, six months into his recovery from the horrific burn to his eye. Piandao raises a brow.

“What messages?”

“The White Lotus ones. If they’re going to Uncle, they’re in danger of being intercepted.”

“Zuko, your uncle has a personal hawk. And there are codes that we use to make sure that no one finds out.”

“And if Azula gets her hands on the hawk? She won’t hesitate to burn it, and the letter.” There’s a strange sadness in his voice, and Piandao wonders how prone to burning animals the princess is. He doesn’t want to know the answer. “Not to mention she could probably figure out the code and tell the Fire Lord your plans.”

“Hm. What do you suggest?”

“Keep rotating the codes,” Zuko says immediately, and that more than anything makes it clear to Piandao that he’s been thinking about this for a while. “Make them unique to each nation, but have senior members know them all. And have the messages pass through several people instead of direct hawks. It’ll be less suspicious if messages come from within the same nation, think of how the Earth Kingdom would react to seeing a Fire Nation hawk in their midst.”

“I imagine the soldiers would find it strange,” Piandao admits.

“ _And_ ,” Zuko presses, “there are ways to conceal the ink you use to write, so that they can be revealed with temperature changes. That way, anything sent between the Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe will be impossible to read by anyone except who know what to expect.”

“You make a fair point,” Piandao concedes. They _had_ been using codes for messages, but he has to admit that they’re outdated and relatively easy to decipher if one is dedicated enough. “But I assume you have something else to say?”

Zuko nods decisively, and Piandao realizes just what he’s been up to, while thinking of codes and ciphers and whatnot.

“I want to join the Order of the White Lotus.”

Piandao sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Zuko, you know why–”

“I can handle it,” he exclaims. “You said I nearly mastered the art of the sword, and I know I had problems with it for a while because of balance but I’m capable of defending myself if it comes to it!”

Piandao tries to think of a situation where Zuko would have to lie and deceive his way through a mission to survive, and completely fails. The kid is a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them. In fact, Zuko is just about as far from being a halfway decent liar as it gets. He wouldn’t spill their secrets, Piandao knows, but there’s no way he’d be able to lie convincingly enough to go unnoticed.

“I know you are,” he says instead. “But you’re still recovering, and missions are generally too dangerous to send kids on. I’d say this to anyone else your age as well,” he adds when Zuko opens his mouth to retort.

The kid huffs. “I was going to offer to deliver messages around Shu Jing and any neighbouring towns,” he says. “I wasn’t – I wasn’t offering to run missions or anything.”

Piandao sighs again and looks up at the ceiling. Spirits, grant him patience.

“How about we make a deal,” he starts, and his expression softens when Zuko immediately perks up, “I let you go on supervised courier missions for a while, once you’ve earned your mastery in wielding your _dao_ , and then we’ll talk about letting you go on bigger missions until you become an official member.”

Zuko’s eyes light up and he practically vibrates with excitement. Piandao often thinks that they teenager had been a hummingbird-bee in his past life, and it’s not an inaccurate thought.

“Thank you, Dad,” he says at last, “I won’t disappoint you.”

Piandao chuckles and ruffles his hair. “You never could, kid.”

* * *

_“Hi, Mai.”_

_She spins around at the sound of his voice, gasping when she faces him. “Zuko!”_

_He grins and moves forward at the same time she does, hugging her for a moment before stepping away. They’ve never been ones for public displays of emotion, but Zuko doesn’t mind the occasional embrace – especially since he hasn’t seen her in three years. His grin twists to something a little more serious, more intense, as he remembers what he’s here for._

_“Listen, I wanted to thank you.”_

_“For what?”_

_“For writing to Master Piandao that night.” He ducks his head, fidgeting a little. “You kind of saved my life.”_

_She blinks, startled at the admission. “So it’s true?”_

_He frowns. “Um…”_

_“The Fire Lord would have just… abandoned you, if no one took you in?”_

_Zuko’s shoulders slump. He really doesn’t like thinking about that time, but he owes Mai the truth. To be fair, he owes her his life, but honesty would do for now._

_“Yeah,” he says quietly. “He said he’d wanted to – um,” – he can’t bring himself to complete that sentence, but Mai gets it, the way she always understands more than what people say – “for a while, but Mom stopped him and made him swear to leave me alone. Guess he took that a bit too literally.”_

_Mai’s expression darkens. “So, this might be treason to say,” she says, softer than ever so that she’s not overheard, “but he doesn’t deserve you. You’re a good friend, even if you haven’t written in three years.”_

_Zuko flushes. “I didn’t know you wanted me to!”_

_She raises a brow. “You pushed me into a fountain when we were nine. I saved your life a year later. I think that counts as being on letter-writing terms.”_

_He sighs. “Are you ever going to let that go?”_

_She smirks. “No. But… I want you to know,” she says suddenly, startling him when she moves to clutch at his arm, “I tried to get my dad to take you in, or ask one of his friends to offer to be your guardian. I did my best, but…”_

_Zuko knows how General Ukano is, by principle. He doesn’t like the man very much, and Mai knows it even if he’s never told her as much in words. He nods._

_“It means a lot that you tried,” he says earnestly. “And you did help. I probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your letter to Piandao.”_

_She smirks. “I guess you owe me two-for-one now, huh. I intend to collect, when I visit.”_

_“I’ll be looking forward to it.”_

* * *

A year-and-a-half into Zuko’s recovery, he earns his mastery in wielding the _dao_. It had been tricky to adjust his new lack of depth perception and skewed balance that had been results of his burn, but he figured it out with some experimenting. Pride flows through his veins as he stands before his teacher and receives his newly forged blades – _that he made himself_ , he thinks giddily.

“As your teacher, I must say that I’m _very_ proud of how far you’ve come in the art of wielding and smithing the sword. As your father, I have a gift for you to commemorate this occasion.”

Zuko straightens, trying not to look _too_ excited. Something must show up in his expression, though, because Piandao chuckles and ruffles his hair – dislodging his phoenix tail, much to his chagrin.

“You forgot to forge a sheath for your twin blades,” he continues, amused, “but fortunately I expected it while I planned for your present.”

He hands Zuko an absolutely _gorgeous_ sheath, and Zuko swears that for a moment he stopped breathing as he takes in the rippled gold outlining the coal-black metal, while the leather straps are etched with patterns of two stylized dragons wrapping around each other in a series of loops.

“Dad, this is – this is _wonderful_ ,” he chokes out.

Piandao smiles. “I thought you’d like it,” he says, pleased.

Zuko can’t find it in him to summon any more words, and resorts to simply beaming at Piandao. The man chuckles and ushers him inside.

“We’ll celebrate with your uncle in the evening,” Piandao reminds him. “You still have to finish the rest of your lessons.

“But _Dad_ –”

* * *

Admiral Jeong Jeong has been charged on account of desertion.

 _The news isn’t particularly_ new _, but Piandao still feels twisted and sick about it. Had Jeong Jeong_ planned _it, or was it a consequence of witnessing a massacre? The worst part has to be the uncertainty – he doesn’t know if his partner is still_ alive _, or injured and in need of medical assistance... Piandao can’t take a day off and_ grieve _the absence of his partner – sure, they’d spent long periods apart, but never like_ this _– because he has to take care of Zuko, who’s still recovering from the ghastly wound the Fire Lord inflicted on him, but he can’t bring himself to_ get up _._

_There’s a knock at the door._

_Piandao grunts a reply but doesn’t move from where he’s huddled on the bed, under the covers. He can’t bring himself to, even though he knows he’s meant to be with the kid. Fat would probably lock him in his bedchambers if he knew of Piandao’s state, and probably lecture him into taking a break if he had to, but he’s neither here nor there, and doesn’t know what to do about everything._

_“Master Piandao?” The voice is tiny, hesitant, and somewhat slurred._

Zuko _._

_He raises himself up to his elbows, startled by the boy’s presence. “You’re supposed to be in bed, kid. Rest and recover.”_

_“It was too…” he waves his hand about vaguely, and Piandao interprets that as ‘_ I was too restless’ _, which is not entirely inaccurate, by the looks of it._

_“I thought – I made some tea for you,” Zuko says, stumbling over the words, “Uncle says that it helps, and while I think it’s just hot leaf juice, he’s not really wrong.”_

_“The_ hot leaf juice _has helped you in the past, then?”_

_“Yeah,” he says simply. “I asked Uncle what it was, apparently it’s jasmine?”_

_Despite himself, Piandao chuckles. He sits up against the headboard and reaches for the cup. “Why not? It’s worth a try, anyway.”_

_Zuko lights up and he passes the steaming cup over to Piandao. He can’t help but be moved by the innocence of Zuko’s actions, how he’d gone out of his way to try and comfort him in the ways he knew best, even though he_ had _to be feeling awful with his injury. The swordsmaster takes a sip and tries not to wince at the scalding heat, which only barely masks the bitterness that comes with overheating jasmine._

_It’s the best cup he’s ever had._

_“Thank you, Zuko,” he says sincerely. “I’m sorry I wasn’t down earlier–”_

_Zuko shakes his head fiercely, and grimaces when it aggravates the burn. His hand flutters to his face, hovering a few inches above the bandage before he drops it back to his side._

_“Don’t – I_ get _it, you need time. I needed time too, after Mom…”_

Ah _. Piandao takes another sip of his too-hot, too-bitter tea in lieu of responding, but there’s no need for it because Zuko simply, characteristically, barrels right on._

_“We’re going to end the war,” he announces, and Piandao knows now that it’s not just about Jeong Jeong’s desertion. “And when we do, and Uncle becomes the Fire Lord–”_

_“Don’t_ you _want to be Fire Lord?”_

_Zuko makes a face as best as he can with the bandage covering a good third of it, but doesn’t say anything else. Piandao has to admit that it’s an apt summary of his feelings towards the position, so he lets Zuko continue._

_“Right, so when we end the war, we’ll make sure we find him.”_

_“I hope so,” Piandao murmurs._

_But he’s starting to believe that it’s possible._

__

* * *

Zuko may have already mastered fighting with his swords, but firebending has always been difficult for him. His burn has _not_ made that any easier for him, and even Uncle Iroh’s endless patience becomes grating when he stumbles over the same part of the kata he’s been practicing all week yet another time. He growls and lets out a plume of smoke, instantly regretting it when it stings his eyes. He already gets enough of that from the damaged skin on his face, there’s no need for him to add to his discomfort.

He's running them all cold, anyway, since the sight of fire so close to his face doesn’t sit well with him anymore. It’s something he’ll have to work on, he knows – Uncle’s recommendation to meditate with candles at a distance have helped, and he’s not afraid of manipulating existing fire anymore, but a bender _has_ to bend.

The problem is, the only flames that get even remotely close to Zuko’s face are his own, so now he has to find a way to stop being afraid of his own fire.

“You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” Uncle interrupts thoughtfully.

Zuko startles – he hadn’t heard him come up near him – hadn’t noticed his presence until he’d spoken, really – and Uncle shoots him an apologetic look. The only person he’s really comfortable with being in his blind spot (more like blind _side_ ) is his dad, and even _that_ is only on his good days. It’s not terrible when it’s Uncle, either, but Zuko knows that it’s something he needs to work on. At the very least, he has to get used to the possibility of being somewhat vulnerable on that side, because his hearing isn’t exactly at its best either.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “But I’ve lost balance in that side, so…”

“Perhaps we have to take those factors into account,” Iroh muses. “I believe I’ve been compensating the steps with your impaired balance, but if that’s your dominant side…”

Uncle runs him through the steps once more, slower, and more careful, taking care to adjust his stance along the way. Then he stands back and watches as Zuko performs the amended sequence in silence. Zuko can already feel the change – his feet are less grounded, but that allows for the smooth transition between positions without sacrificing his balance. It’s a bit like the airbending moves Uncle showed him from the scrolls he found during his travel, really, and Zuko nearly stumbles again when he realises that it probably _is_ an airbending move.

He completes the kata cleanly and when he goes to meet Uncle’s gaze, the man is already beaming back at him.

“Oh, good, you noticed,” he says without preamble. “Excellent form, nephew. I believe it’s time for a _different_ sort of lesson now.”

“Do I have to do more katas?” Zuko grumbles, and Iroh chuckles.

“No, you do not.”

Zuko promptly stomps over and flops down beside his uncle. Iroh mutely hands him a cup of tea, and Zuko doesn’t even bother complaining about hot drinks immediately following training and is pleasantly surprised to find that the tea is cool and refreshing compared to Uncle’s usual blends.

“Lemon and peach,” Iroh supplies. “I thought you might enjoy it, Piandao has always liked the flavour.”

“It’s… interesting,” Zuko allows, not willing to concede to his uncle’s old promise that he would, one day, find _some_ tea that would please Zuko. Uncle’s smile is knowing, and Zuko grins back, leaning fully against the tree trunk.

“This lesson is more theoretical,” Iroh starts. “You’ve nearly mastered firebending, and that is no small feat, but there is a philosophy behind these things, as there always is.”

Zuko… hasn’t really studied _bending philosophy_ , even under Piandao’s tutelage. Sure, he’s pretty good at politics and fairly decent at strategy, but philosophy has never really been a topic he’d thought he’d need. None of that matters right now, of course, since Iroh simply moves on.

“It is always wise to look and learn from others,” he says, scratching out a rough-looking emblem of the Fire Nation on the soil beneath them. “You remember what I’ve told you about the four elements?”

Zuko nods. “Fire is power, earth is substance, water is change, and air… air is freedom. I guess it sounds like Avatar stuff.”

Uncle nods. “It is the combination of these four elements that makes them so powerful,” he agrees. “But studying other benders usually helps one understand their own element more. Think of your combat training and how you would learn from your opponent – it isn’t entirely different from that.”

It makes sense, even if Uncle launches into a speech about spirits and balance that mostly flies over his head, but Zuko simply leans against the tree and listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some age references if you'd like to straighten out the timeline here: this chapter takes place during the three years between the massacre of the 41st and the start of canon book 1, and bridges the gap with Healing and Found Family instead of Emotionally Repressing Yourself While On A Boat For Three Years.
> 
> For the first flashback scene, Zuko and Mai's conversation happens after the funeral right before Azula pulls him away to talk to Ozai.  
> The second flashback scene happens around the early days of Zuko's recovery from his injury, when he finally lets himself think about what Jeong Jeong's desertion means for both of them. Also, this scene is kind of inspired by pianjeong/acezuko's '[we said forever but forever wouldn't wait for us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468962)'. It's wonderful and y'all should definitely check it out if you haven't already!  
> As for the final scene with Iroh, Zuko would be around 15-16 (a few months before canon) at this point. He's pretty good at firebending, but parallel to how canon actually starts, he isn't a master yet.
> 
> Anyways, if Zuko seems a little less like canon (mainly that he's less shouty) from here - it's because he knows exactly who loves him and who doesn't, as well as where his loyalties lie. Instead of three years of false hope, they're three years of healing, and Zuko also took some time to understand exactly why the war was wrong and that it Must Be Stopped. As for Zuko coming up with the idea of codes... that's peak theater kid right there, I'm sure Piandao found him some spy stories that he just ate up. One thing I love about his character in the show is that however impulsive and reckless he can be with his plans, he's incredibly smart and capable of assessing a situation well. Anyways, that's enough rambling for now.
> 
> One final question: if I started to post fragments of upcoming chapters (and maybe some deleted sections) of this fic on my Tumblr, would you guys want to check that out? I've posted deleted scenes of other fics before and would love to hear from you guys about what you think (seriously, your comments never fail to make me grin like a fool)!
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we meet canon events, specifically, the Gaang!
> 
> I had fun playing with this chapter and forward from here, and a lot of the gaps between scenes in chapter 4 will be explained in flashbacks and so on - I'm really excited to write and post the upcoming chapters because the bigger divergence starts from here. 
> 
> **That being said** , I might need to take a week off in between chapters to write ahead so that I can stick to schedule - I don't want to get stuck or abandon this work, so I'll do my best to keep updating once a week, but if that seems to be a little hard to catch up to, I may skip a week before updating. I'm not sure about whether I'll be updating chapter 6 on schedule, but that depends on how quickly I can finish writing chapter 8. However, I'll do my best to notify everyone beforehand if I'm taking a week off of posting a new chapter.
> 
> Y'all are amazing, and I hope you enjoy this installment!

It’s almost too easy for Zuko to scale the fortifications of the most secure stronghold outside the Fire Nation. Safely concealing his identity behind his mask, he smirks at how lax the security is – hadn’t Zhao recruited the famed Yuyan Archers for this mission? He’s always hated the man and his overinflated ego, and Dad had only been too eager to agree with him whenever he brought it up. He’ll have to return home soon, but that might take a few months depending on his assignments.

The detour is bad enough, but he can’t have anybody shipping the Avatar off to the Fire Lord – whoever they are, they’re currently the world’s last source of hope that the war might end. It was a near enough miracle that they’d stayed hidden this long – Zuko doesn’t know whether he intends to stay long enough to find out. Right now, his only concern is breaking them out and getting them safely to wherever they’d been hiding before being captured by the Fire Nation.

Zuko refuses to attribute the capture to someone so incompetent as Zhao – sure, his bending may be flashy and physically harder to match, but the man has no sense, common or otherwise. It was probably the Yuyan who did it in the first place, only for Zhao to take all the credit.

He shouldn’t feel so indignant on their behalf, considering he’s here to free their prisoner, but he does anyway. It helps that losing the Avatar when he’d had them right within his grasp would certainly disfavour him in the eyes of the Fire Lord.

But Zuko also knows the Fire Lord, and he isn’t going to hope that the mission gets called off once the news gets back to the capital. That’s the _unlikely_ bit.

He kind of pities the guards he flings aside and knocks out, because their jobs would be on the line – but that’s a _good_ thing, considering he’s technically saving their lives by getting them far away from the front lines. He crouches by the door and surreptitiously heats up the lock until he can slice his swords through the slit between the door and its frame. He kicks it open the rest of the way and is surprised, once again, to find that the Avatar doesn’t have many guards. Zuko had kind of expected to see an entire platoon of soldiers watching over them, but he isn’t about to complain about his job being made easier.

“Are you here to rescue me?” they ask as Zuko approaches them silently, and that’s when Zuko notices a few things about him that hadn’t been entirely obvious from a distance:

One; the Avatar is wearing the robes of an Air Nomad monk.

Two; they have the tattoos of a master airbender.

Three; they’re _tiny_.

The third observation sets his nerves on fire, even though it doesn’t make much sense – the Avatar is a _child_.

Zuko cuts through the chains easily, fueled by his mounting anger.

“I’ll take that as a _yes_ ,” they mutter.

Zuko leads them out into the corridor when they spot something before them on the ground. “My frogs,” the Avatar cries. “Come back! And stop thawing out!”

Zuko freezes and spins back to march towards the Avatar, pick them up by the collar and practically haul them out.

“Wait, my friends need to suck on those frogs!”

They round past a corner and Zuko stops the distressed kid from crying out with a hand to their mouth. “Do you want all these soldiers to hear us?” he hisses. “At this rate, you’ll be shipped directly to the Fire Lord, no questions asked.”

“And what about you?” they ask, far softer than they’d been only moments before. “Won’t you be in trouble?”

“Only if I get caught.”

* * *

_“I don’t even know if it’s the full story,” Piandao concludes, and Iroh exhales a small jet of flame that basically summarises how he feels about the whole story._

_“Agni, I thought my father had changed the line of succession on his deathbed to stop any political conflict,” he says, staring a little unfocused at the table. “I didn’t think Ozai would try to_ usurp _the throne. And Ursa…”_

_“I’m afraid that she may have given her life in exchange for her son’s. We’re not sure if she’s still alive,” he admits gravely. “I didn’t tell Zuko about the investigation because it still upsets him. I didn’t want to give him false hopes.”_

_Iroh nods. “Wise,” he agrees softly. “I’m sorry about Jeong Jeong,” he adds._

_Piandao shuts his eyes against the swell of emotion. He has no idea whether his partner is even_ alive _, and it eats at him like a fire out of control. But he can’t afford to fall apart even though he wants to, though he wishes that he can rage about it for as long as he –_

_But Zuko needs him, and Piandao swore to be there for him when he took him in as a guardian. They’re a lot closer now, and his promise to the kid has only multiplied in intensity._

_And, fair, he’s kind of mad at Iroh for not speaking up against the plan, since he was in the damned war meeting where the plans were decided, but he can’t hold it against the man, not when he seems so_ faded _after the death of his son. He’s in a similar position right now, doesn’t know if Zuko will even survive his injury, and he isn’t going to hold Iroh’s silence against him for long. Spirits, he hates this. He’d give_ anything _to return to a week ago, when Jeong Jeong was still at the estate and Zuko was bickering with him about a play, no end to their peaceful bubble in sight._

_And a bubble it had been, fragile and beautiful until Ozai burst it so cruelly._

_He doesn’t reply past a nod, but Iroh has never been one to push._

_“I also wanted to thank you, for taking in Zuko,” the retired general says instead._

_“I wasn’t going to_ leave him on the streets _. I’m not a monster.”_

 _Iroh shoots him a steady look. “No, you’re not. That_ honour, _” – he spits out the word – “goes to my brother, whom I loathe to claim as such.”_

_“Then why do you?”_

_The fight drains out of him, leaving him looking rather drained and tired. “The same reason Zuko still attends public appearances of the royal family._ But _,” he meets Piandao’s eyes, looking about as sincere as a man can get, “I’ve looked away from Zuko’s abuse all my life, and it only became clear to me when I returned after such a long absence that even my niece suffered under Ozai’s wing. I don’t know how I can make it up to him – to them, but I’m grateful that you removed Zuko from a place so toxic as the palace.”_

_Piandao nods silently and turns his gaze to the door of Zuko’s chambers, where they’d moved him for the sake of his comfort. Ozai’s lucky that Piandao can’t firebend, he thinks. Otherwise, the man would be a pile of ashes on the floor right now._

_“There is one thing you can do,” he says, and Iroh almost snaps to attention like he’s back in the army. “Azula’s still at the palace. I don’t know how much of an influence Ozai has on her, but Zuko told me that Azula wouldn’t be hurt if he was there to make her look good. I didn’t like the sound of that, but I can’t worry about her too right now.”_

_“I understand, old friend. I’ve been trying to help her along a little since my return, but she doesn’t take too kindly to me.” He sighs and stares at the inkstains on the table once more, seemingly aged another decade in this conversation alone. “I only hope she sees that in time.”_

* * *

“So, let me get this straight,” Sokka says, once Aang finishes rambling about what happened in the Fire Nation stronghold, whatever it was called. “You tried to find some swamp frogs, got captured by the Fire Nation, ended up being rescued and held hostage by some random guy in a mask, and decided to let a complete stranger travel with us for a while?”

“You can just call me Zuko,” the guy says. “And I didn’t hold him _hostage_. I bluffed, and if Zhao had called me out on it, I would have found another way to get the Avatar out.”

“Aang,” the airbender corrects. “I trust him, Sokka,” he adds.

Sokka pinches his nose. “We’re kind of on a deadline here,” he protests, already knowing that arguing the point isn’t worth it.

“I understand,” Zuko rushes to fill in. “I’m in a bit of a hurry too, which is why I even agreed to Aang’s offer – the village I need to get to is on your route to the North.”

“How do you know we’re going north?” Sokka asks suspiciously.

“I didn’t tell him,” Aang defends himself quickly.

“Your maps were out, and I was rolling them up so that they wouldn’t get damaged by the rain. Also – half-trained waterbender and an Avatar who can only airbend? It’s the most logical thing to do.”

“Hey,” Katara protests. “How do you know I’m _half-trained_?”

Zuko shrugs. “I have some connections. People like to gossip on port towns. And my uncle wanted me to study other bending forms too – just now, when you tried to summon that ribbon, you were off-balance. No trained waterbender would have a stance like that.”

Katara squawks in indignation and Zuko instantly backtracks. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just thought that you’d be looking for a master, that’s all! There’s nothing wrong with inexperience unless you’re trying to survive.”

Sokka exhales and shuts his eyes for a moment. Aang _really_ needs to stop adopting strangers, and they don’t have the time to argue about the semantics of waterbending training.

“I don’t even know why we’re debating this,” he mutters. “Get on the bison, we’ll take you to your village.”

* * *

_“Iroh, I can’t order a watch on Zuko for every mission he goes on. He’s been running messages for a year now, and you can’t deny that he has the skills of a master spy or saboteur.”_

_“I know,” Iroh says on an exhale. “I can’t help but worry, nonetheless. He’s always felt the need to prove himself to everyone around him, even when one makes it clear that they don’t have any expectations that exceed his own.”_

_Piandao shrugs. “He’s working on it. And he’s getting_ better _,” he adds. “He’s been in my care for six years, Iroh, and Shu Jing has been good to him.”_

_Iroh sighs. “At this rate, you’ll be offering to rank him as an initiate.”_

_“Why not? The Order has benefitted from his presence – he’s a marvellous courier, and that cipher system he came up with has been a massive help for more important missives that we exchange.”_

_Iroh blinks. He hadn’t known that Zuko was the one to come up with the cipher, but it certainly explained things. He_ had _been obsessed with those plays about spies as a child, so Iroh wouldn’t put it past him to use that element of theatre in real life._

_“Very well, then, old friend. I’ll speak to him once he–”_

_The door to the study bursts open, revealing a frantic Zuko who promptly doubles over as he tries to catch his breath. Both men are on their feet in seconds, but Zuko waves them off and rights himself. The wild look doesn’t leave his eyes, though, and Iroh is about to ask why he seemed to have run half across town when the teenager speaks up:_

_“The Avatar is back.”_

* * *

Zhao frowns after the mysterious swordsman who’d rescued the Avatar from his prison. Something about them had seemed… familiar, somehow. Dual _dao_ are a rare enough choice – really, dual weapons are only used by the best of their wielders – but something in the make had caught his eye before. He just can’t figure out what it was.

He dismisses his guards and strides back to his temporary office in the stronghold, mentally drafting a letter to the Fire Lord to allow him to command a part of the army for his next move. Of course, he still has plans to capture the Avatar for the glory of the Fire Nation, but he has another mission in mind. Something _grand_ , that would catch the eye of all the nations, not just his own. With communications being unreliable at the moment, he’d rather send his request in with a runner or a messenger, rather than a hawk.

He passes the weapon-lined corridors when double swords catch the light and his gaze. He stops and inspects them closely, once again reminded of the _Blue Spirit_ , as the archers had called him. A suspicious character that would be sighted often in the area but never really posed a threat to the stronghold before. _Scouting the area, probably_ , Zhao realizes. But no one could have broken into the stronghold unless they were familiar with the layout of Fire Nation encampments.

So it has to be someone from inside the Fire Nation, with enough access to military locations and their plans. Not any random soldier, no – Pohuai, despite the latest break-in, is one of the most secure military facilities the Fire Nation had to offer, and only those with high ranks could have had access to those plans.

High rank meant high status, and Zhao’s certain that that has to mean something. He’s certain that someone has turned traitor with enough power to go unseen, but he isn’t sure _who_ it might be.

He’ll figure it out soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't want to make this chapter look like a repeat of 00AwkwardPenguin00's [Dragon of the Yuyan](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582384) series, but it definitely inspired the 'Avatar is tiny' bit. Also, definitely check out this series - it's wonderful and follows the trend of [insert responsible adult] adopts Zuko fics.
> 
> A follow-up to last time's end notes - I'll be posting updates to this fic and snippets of future chapters (plus deleted scenes if there are any) on my [tumblr](silveryinkystar.tumblr.com) under the [fic: the swordsmen of shu jing](https://silveryinkystar.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A+the+swordsmen+of+shu+jing) tag. Feel free to drop an ask into my inbox if you'd like to chat about my fic or atla in general, I always love hearing your thoughts!
> 
> Also - I am planning on taking this through most of canon, but I won't be doing a play-by-play of every episode, even the ones that are Zuko-centric in canon (ex. The Storm / Zuko Alone). I may take some elements of the episodes into the story if they fit, but there are enough changes in the build-up to this point that would diverge the plot from canon for at least some of the characters, Zuko being one of them. Also, as much as I love the Gaang, I can't promise Gaang-centric chapters in the future, or specifically their POVs. They may take over some of the scenes for narrative effect, but this is ultimately a story that focuses on Zuko, as well as Piandao, Jeong Jeong, and Iroh (to an extent).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kind of a filler chapter, but there's a lot of discussion about the war in the first section so it gets a little heavy there. It's not graphic at all considering the context is that Zuko's explaining his revelations about the war and the Fire Nation's perspective to the Gaang, specifically to Aang, who's both the youngest and newest to the war in general.
> 
> (I also realise that my timing for this chapter might be a little ironic. Eep)
> 
> Anyways. Hope y'all enjoy!

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but we can’t go on without addressing the elephant-koi in the room.”

“We’re on a bison, Sokka,” Aang says sagely from his seat at the front.

“ _You know that’s not what I meant_!”

“Okay,” Katara consoles, wincing at the shrill octave her brother’s voice takes, “what did you want to say?”

“It’s just kind of weird that you’re all for fighting the Fire Nation and helping the Avatar, and all that,” Sokka says, turning to Zuko. “Good for us, of course, but still weird.”

“I’m not fighting against the Fire Nation. I’m trying to _help_ them. This war is poisoning us as much as the rest of the world; the only ones who don’t see it are at the top of the social and economic ladder.”

Three blank faces stare back at him. Zuko mentally kicks himself – the Southern Water Tribes had been glorious once, according to Dad and Uncle, but repeated raids from the Fire Nation had decimated their people and resources. Wealth, while never having been a big deal for them in the first place, would have been absolutely impossible to obtain under their current circumstances.

Not to mention, the Air Nomads were monks and nuns – their philosophies centered around freedom from desire and material items. They might have had wealth while they were still around, but it would have been used for the community to buy what they couldn’t grow for themselves.

“They’re the ones who throw their money at the war, and since they have more than enough to spare and hoard, they’re the ones who get the most benefit from it too.”

“But the soldiers who settle on Earth Kingdom land…”

Zuko sighs. It had taken him a while to realise that not all was as black-and-white about the war as it seemed, even after learning that it was wrong. He thinks for a moment about how to explain that sometimes people liked destroying others’ lives for their amusement, while others were so beyond questioning their morality and orders that they did whatever they were told, before meeting Sokka’s gaze and deciding that no, there’s no need to spoil the innocence of kids under fourteen, even though they were both victims of the war in ways no one should have been.

“Some of them see no choice, and enlistment is the only way they get to earn a little to send back to their families,” Zuko says carefully. “If they die in battle, the families are sent money to compensate, in case they were the only ones who provided the household with an income. If they go back home, they have all of their pension to use on regular expenses. Others are in higher positions of control. It’s about glory and honour, for them, but they don’t understand that that’s not _real_ honour.”

The two of them seem to accept that explanation and return to what they’d been doing before.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sokka says softly as he settles back next to Zuko. He jolts from his thoughts, not having noticed the other boy join his side. “Why’d you change your mind about the war?”

“I guess you should know before I begin that I was born a prince,” he says, and Sokka blinks. Aang frowns, and Katara all but backs away, hand already at her waterskin and ready to defend herself and the others in case he attacked. Not that he’s going to, of course. Both because he doesn’t want to, and pragmatically – they’re more than liable to toss him off the bison if he does, and from this height, he’s not sure that anyone could survive hitting the ground or ocean.

“You’re Fire Lord Ozai’s son?”

Zuko grimaces. “It’s… complicated. Biologically, yeah, but he hasn’t been my father in six years.”

Sokka frowns at the comment but seems to accept it, though Katara still squints suspiciously at him.

“Families are weird,” is all he says, right as his sister asks, “What convinced you to turn against your father?”

Zuko hesitates for a moment, hand drifting up to his scar almost unconsciously. “It’s not something I like to think about,” he confesses, and the others immediately backtrack.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Katara says hurriedly, flushing a little. “I didn’t mean to make you–”

“No, it’s okay, you didn’t know,” he interrupts. “I get why it’s weird. It’s just – it’s personal, but on a grander scale, he’s probably the worst Fire Lord the Fire Nation had, you know?”

“Sozin was pretty bad,” Sokka says, and Zuko shakes his head.

“I’m not defending him by any means, but he was careful to make sure that his people didn’t suffer in the war. Fire Lord Azulon did that too, for the most part. What they did to the other nations was horrible, and I’m not going to think about defending any of it–”

“You better not,” Katara mutters.

“– but not a lot of people suffered _within_ the Fire Nation, it’s part of why the war lasted so long. If more people had figured it out before, I think this mess would have been sorted out a long time ago. Or maybe not. But more people would be against the war, that’s for sure.”

“Well, yeah,” Aang says frowning harder. “The whole Earth Kingdom’s fighting against the Fire Nation.”

“I meant a resistance,” Zuko explains patiently. “I can count the number of rebellions in Fire Lord Azulon’s reign on one hand, and he ruled for, like, sixty years at _least_. Fire Lord Ozai’s only been around for six years, and the numbers have risen exponentially.”

Sokka leans in, interested. “You think there are people who’d be willing to help us in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko winces. “I’m not sure of that – they may not like the war, but if they have families, they’ll turn you away if they don’t turn you in. They can’t risk putting the people they love in danger.”

“That’s as bad as not doing anything,” Katara exclaims. “Like that guy who snitched on Haru!”

Zuko doesn’t know who Haru is, but he can guess from context. “I know. Unfortunately, that’s how it is right now. The Fire Lord doesn’t hold back against dissent. And so far, as unpopular as it may be, it’s working on the Fire Nation.”

“And the personal bit?” Sokka redirects, when it’s clear that they’ve reached the end of this discussion. Zuko sighs.

“It’s important for you to know,” Zuko says, meeting Sokka’s eyes. “But I don’t think I’m ready to tell you guys now.”

“Well, we’ve already got an explanation out of you,” Katara reasons. “And it makes a lot of sense, so… I guess it can wait until you’re ready.”

He’s not planning on staying with them for long, but Zuko appreciates it nonetheless.

* * *

_“When I grow up,” Zuko declares to Lu Ten one day, “I’m going to be a fire dancer!”_

_Lu ten laughs and ruffles his hair. “Really?”_

_“Mmhmm. I’m gonna make all those pretty shapes like those benders did at the festival today.”_

_“That sounds amazing, buddy,” Lu Ten replies, a brief sadness stinging at his heart. Zuko’s a prince of the Fire Nation, regardless of whether he is or isn’t directly in line for the throne, he’d never be allowed to take up an occupation that didn’t directly service their people – fire dancing, as amazing as it is, isn’t exactly high on that list, or anywhere near it. But there’s nothing wrong in humouring a child’s wild dreams, and Zuko’s only six – so he listens to his cousin ramble on about how realistic they made the climactic end of_ Love Amongst the Dragons _and the way the Dragon Emperor revealed himself with appropriate flourishes._

_“They’re the best benders in the world,” he concludes, and Lu Ten can only grin at the earnestness in the kid’s voice._

_“I thought_ I _was the best bender in the world?”_

_Zuko scrunches his nose. “You’re the next best,” he decides._

_“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he huffs playfully, and is gratified when Zuko curls into his side. It’s getting late, and he should probably be in bed now, but Lu Ten can’t bring himself to disturb this peaceful moment he gets to share with his cousin. He thanks his past self for having the forethought to convince Aunt Ursa to keep their little trip between the two of them, and Dad had been more than encouraging in his letters from the front._

_He pushes away the reminders of the war; he_ definitely _doesn’t want to think of the enlistment that approaches in two years. He’ll serve in the army since it’s his duty, but really, he just wants to spend time with his cousin and shower him with the affection that he misses from Ozai and Azula._

_“You still up, buddy?” he asks softly, and he feels a sleepy nod against his shoulder. “You’re not wrong about the fire dancers being incredible benders. The images they create need a crazy amount of control and precision to achieve, so they need to be the best at what they do to make sure that no one gets hurt by the fire.”_

_“D’you think I could do it?” Zuko asks blearily, and Lu Ten wraps an arm around him as an encouragement for the kid to lean further into his warmth. Zuko accepts the invitation without hesitation and folds into his side, resting his head against Lu Ten’s heart._

_There are a thousand things on his mind all the time when he’s at the palace, but Lu Ten feels content here, at the sloping edge of the caldera, watching the sun sink below the horizon with his little brother._

_“I think you can do anything you want to.”_

* * *

The Fire Days Festival is a _disaster_. Zuko was careful enough to use a different mask from his own in case news had spread from Pohuai Stronghold quickly enough, but even that hadn’t been enough to stop Aang from impulsively airbending away the display dragon from Katara, even though Zuko had assured him that it was, again, _harmless_. Good thing Chey showed up when he did, because Zuko did not have anything up his sleeve to pull that wouldn’t instantly give away his identity.

“Who _are_ you, anyway?” Zuko asks Chey, because clearly no one else is going to.

“I serve a man. More than a man really, he's a myth, but he's real, a living legend, Jeong Jeong the Deserter. He was a Fire Nation general, or wait, was he an admiral…”

“ _What_?” Zuko exclaims, right as Sokka says, “He was very highly ranked, we get it.”

“Yeah! Way up there! But he couldn't take the madness anymore. He's the first person ever to leave the army and live.” _Not true – that honour goes to Dad._ “I'm the second, but you don't get to be a legend for that. That's okay though. Jeong Jeong's a firebending genius. Some say he's mad - but he's not! He's enlightened.”

Spirits, he’s definitely going to tear Jeong Jeong a new one when he sees him. Or scream, or set something on fire. Probably all of them, he’s not sure what he’s feeling right now.

“Where is Admiral Jeong Jeong now?” he asks calmly, but Sokka must notice something in his voice because he snaps to attention beside him.

“No, we’re not going to meet a crazy firebender now!”

“Jeong Jeong’s not crazy,” Zuko and Chey protest in unison, which – _weird_. The two of them blink at each other for a moment before shrugging it off.

“Weird,” Sokka echoes, though he looks a little concerned with Zuko’s reaction. “How do you know him anyway?”

“He and my dad are pretty close,” he says neutrally. A massive understatement – Zuko knows that the war had been the only thing stopping them from being married already, at least before the whole _desertion_ thing had become a problem. “But that was before he deserted, of course.”

Sokka frowns. “I guess we can take a short detour,” he allows. Zuko nods.

“Probably wise that we don’t stay here long.”

They continue on their short trek out into the woods, and Zuko wonders how none of the soldiers have caught up to them yet. Either he’s scored some amount of luck, or the military is truly incompetent (not that he’s about to complain if it’s the latter, of course). Regardless, he means to find Jeong Jeong, and he means to have _words_ with the man. If he doesn’t start crying because he’s missed him so much, blast it.

“So how much longer is this going to take?” Sokka asks, and is instantly met with a spear to his face. He yelps and leaps back in unison with Zuko, who yanks him back and nearly knocks him over.

“Don’t move!” the stranger yells.

Chey elbows his way to the front of the group and nudges the spear down. “Lin Yi, it’s just me.”

“It’s you, the Avatar, and three other random kids,” the stranger – Lin Yi – retorts. “Jeong Jeong told you not to look for the Avatar.”

Sokka shakes himself out of his near-death-experience haze and holds up a hand. “Wait. You guys know each other?”

“Oh, yeah, Lin Yi’s an old buddy. Right, Lin Yi?”

Lin Yi jabs Chey with the spear. “Shut _up_. Get moving.”

“Friendly, isn’t he?” Sokka mumbles under his breath so that only Zuko can hear.

Zuko snorts. The path they take leads them downhill towards a small shack, surrounded by easily collapsible tents – army-issued, Zuko remembers. Did they all stumble on a Fire Nation Army encampment, or –

His train of thought stops when Lin Yi holds out the spear before them.

“Go on,” he says curtly. “He sees you only.”

Not if Zuko has anything to say about it. Besides, who is he even talking to?

“Is that where Jeong Jeong is, then? I need to talk to him right away.”

“No, you can wait here,” the man snaps, glaring at Chey. “What are you waiting for?”

Chey shuffles into the hut, chastised. The four of them (plus Lin Yi) stand outside as they wait for his verdict, and snap to attention when he emerges from the thatched hut, lifting an ivy curtain as he steps out.

“Can I see Jeong Jeong now?” Aang asks. “What happened?”

Chey winces. “He won’t see you. He’s furious that I brought you here. He wants you to leave immediately.”

Zuko growls and stomps towards the hut, careful not to light his clenched fists with flame. “To Koh’s lair with what he wants,” he snarls, and Lin Yi reels back at his tone.

Zuko practically rips aside the ivy curtain as he steps inside the hut. It’s small and darkness falls over it completely when the curtain slips back into place, lit only by the circle of candles around Jeong Jeong whose flames rise and fall in time with his breath.

“Get out,” the man says without preamble, and Zuko’s temper flares.

“Absolutely not. I’ve been looking for you this whole time, and I’m not going to leave now.”

“And why should I – _Zuko_?”

Zuko only crosses his arms and glares at the stunned man before him. “Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> About the first scene - Zuko's mostly relating the war to the Fire Nation, since he's only been out of his country in the last year (at most) while going on White Lotus missions. It's not an oversight to his character that he's not thinking about the others, because he does realise that what happened to them was awful and wrong, but it's hard to wrap your head around something that massive unless it slaps you in the face with how real it is. Right now, Zuko's reality leans more heavily towards the Fire Nation, so he's explaining why the war is bad for the Fire Nation in particular. Katara and Sokka realise that they may have to show him just how bad it is everywhere else, but it's clear that they can trust him now so they don't push it yet.
> 
> Zuko: *is baby*  
> Lu Ten: I would do anything for this kid
> 
> On the subject of updates, there's a little section I may need to rework in CH8, but they should probably be up on schedule since they're done!  
> Thanks for reading! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reunion that y'all kept asking for: it's finally here, ft. some Shouty Zuko because s1 Zuko deserves some recognition too in aus
> 
> Chapter 9 has been giving me a few problems (I rewrote it, like three times), but it's nearly complete as of thirty minutes ago, so I shouldn't have any problems with updating Ch8 next week! Y'all, I'm so, *so* excited to post that chapter, and I'm so grateful for your responses for previous chapters till now <3
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

“Dad’s been so worried for the past three years, you know? Neither of us knew if you’d died or been injured in the battle–”

“The Fire Lord was worried about _my health_?” Jeong Jeong asks incredulously, and Zuko scoffs.

“ _I meant Piandao!”_

Of all the things Jeong Jeong had expected to change in the last three years, Zuko calling Piandao ‘ _Dad’_ was not one of them. He’s… also a little jealous that he didn’t receive a similar title, but he brought this on himself by not being there with them. If he wants to earn such an honorific, he’ll work for it and make up for missing out on three years of absence. He remains silent as Zuko shouts, suspecting that it’s something he simply needs to get out of his system – and really, even though he’s very loud, he’s being fair enough with his accusations, so Jeong Jeong _will_ hear him out.

So he stands, dismissing a startled Lin Yi with a wave as Zuko continues to yell, and remains silent until the teenager runs out of steam. He’s a little impressed at Zuko’s control, if he’s being honest – the flames of all twelve candles are well within range and none of them have so much as flickered throughout his tirade. He’s also _incredibly_ suspicious of the massive burn on his face and intends to pursue that line of questioning later if the boy is willing to talk about it.

Zuko seems to exhaust himself about half an hour through and his hoarse shouting fades away into a wavery rasp, not unlike a throat damaged by smoke inhalation (or too much shouting, which is also a legitimate possibility with Zuko). Jeong Jeong is more surprised when Zuko charges at him and throws his arms around his shoulders in a hug. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do here – Zuko’s never been the most tangible kid, and it’s been a while since he’s seen him – and _oh, no, is he crying?_ He has no idea what to do with a crying kid!

He awkwardly pats Zuko on the back, but the boy only folds into him more and sobs even harder. He wonders what Piandao would do and gently rubs circles into his back as Zuko struggles to get his breathing under control. The candles behind him are flaring erratically, but Jeong Jeong can sense the way the flickering gains an unsteady rhythm and slowly evens out as the teenager calms down.

“I was so worried,” he says hoarsely when he regains control of his breath. “He said that you’d been charged for desertion, but no one _knew anything_ , and Dad was a mess, and I didn’t know where to _start_ –”

Zuko cuts himself off and forces himself to breathe. Jeong Jeong moves his hands from his back to the kid’s shoulders and once again wonders just how bad things had been to evoke such a reaction from Zuko, who hadn’t cried once in the time he’d lived in Shu Jing but came pretty close when he found out that the war was wrong.

“I owe you an explanation,” Jeong Jeong says slowly. “And I want to hear you out too. It isn’t safe for you to remain here for long, but I think you and the Avatar’s group can stay here for a while. I assume you’re teaching him firebending?”

Zuko shakes his head, wiping away the tear tracks with his sleeve. Only one of his cheeks is wet, the burned half of his face shed exactly _none_. Not many people could cause such a horrific injury to the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, and Jeong Jeong might be curious to hear the story, but even that is second to the boiling _rage_ inside him at the thought of the Fire Lord harming Piandao’s kid.

“I haven’t taken the tests yet,” he admits. “Uncle Iroh said I still had a few sets to go for that, but it’s fine since I have my swords.”

It’s only then that Jeong Jeong spots the sheath strapped to Zuko’s hip, the way nonbending Earth Kingdom soldiers sometimes did (as opposed to the way Fire Nation soldiers normally strapped weapons across their backs), and actually _looks_ at the elaborate details on the sheath. He can’t make out the pattern from this light and angle, but he’d recognise his partner’s work anywhere.

And all at once, it’s like three years ago when he decided to desert the Fire Nation and leave behind the few good things the place had to offer (all contained within Piandao’s estate) for the foreseeable future. It’s a miracle Zuko found him at all, and Jeong Jeong doesn’t much believe in miracles, but he can thank the spirits for this just once.

“You’re a swordsmaster, then?” he asks, thinking about all those lessons back when Zuko was still adjusting to life at the estate and Jeong Jeong had been lounging around and playing Pai Sho with Piandao, doing his absolute best to distract him from the two (well, three, if he’s being honest) objects that held his attention.

Despite the situation, Zuko grins. “Yeah. As of a year ago, actually.”

No doubt Piandao is proud. Jeong Jeong would be loath to admit it to anyone but him and Zuko, but he’s proud too.

“You said you’d give me answers,” Zuko says hesitantly, and Jeong Jeong sighs.

“And I will.” He gestures for Zuko to leave the shack and follows him outside, pointedly ignoring the stares of three children and two of his former subordinates. They still insist on following rank, but Jeong Jeong has long since foregone his title. Now, experience, on the other hand – _that_ he doesn’t mind.

Jeong Jeong leads Zuko over to the secluded clearing that houses a small circle of tents. From the lip of the valley, a similar circle can be seen further away, and more line the area intermittently. Zuko frowns as he processes this information, and Jeong Jeong can see him putting it all together. He decides to help him along a little.

“Kid, say hello to the surviving members of the 41st Division.”

* * *

_“Uncle, why are we sailing to the Western Air Temple?” Zuko asks exasperatedly. “No one has lived there in a hundred years.”_

_“We are not going to the Western Air Temple,” Iroh says, not looking up from the navigation panel. It’s a slow journey on the rickety Earth Kingdom boat he ‘borrowed’ from Fire Nation custody, but there is some consolation in the fact that the combustion engines of their navy wouldn’t irritate Zuko’s still-healing, currently unbandaged wound._

_“Then why are we on course for–”_

_“The Western Air Temple isn’t the only destination one can find on this course, nephew. We’re heading – actually, we’ve just reached the land of the Sun Warriors.”_

_Zuko sits up sharply, instantly looking over the side of the boat towards the ruins they’re approaching. “Why do we need to see a bunch of ruins, anyway? How’s that going to help me with firebending?”_

_Iroh chuckles. “One can learn a lot from history, nephew. The Sun Warriors were a great and noble culture independent from the Fire Nation, I’m sure that there will be much to learn from them.”_

_“Yeah, a culture that died out_ thousands of years ago _. What sort of remains can we even_ find _there?”_

_Iroh remains silent. Oh, if only he knew._

* * *

Jeong Jeong gets the feeling he’s messed up when the kid’s eyes glaze over and look suspiciously shiny. He can’t deal with Zuko crying _twice_ in the same hour, oh _no_ –

“They – they _survived_?” Zuko croaks. “I thought they were all killed in the – in the ambush. The funeral–”

“It isn’t public knowledge, obviously,” Jeong Jeong says carefully. “I couldn’t keep my desertion secret, but it gave the authorities something to talk about instead of being suspicious about the sudden silence from the 41st.”

“If they were dead, how could they–”

“An entire division dying isn’t exactly common, Zuko,” he interrupts. “We had incredible numbers that day, and the odds of _everyone_ dying were next to none through theory alone, even if everyone was inexperienced and unprepared.”

Zuko stiffens. “You publicized your desertion to cover their tracks,” he realises. “I get it, I – I might have done the same. But I’m still mad at you for not writing. A stupid White Lotus letter would have been enough,” he adds, glaring at Jeong Jeong.

“I know,” he says heavily. “I’m sorry for leaving you all so uncertain about my fate, I didn’t believe I had any choice at the time.”

“And what about last year? Six months ago?”

Fair.

“You’re going to write to Dad,” Zuko says, daring him to disagree, “and I’m going to take the letter back to Shu Jing and explain – _this_. And when everything’s over, you’re coming back home.”

As if he would have wanted anything else. He doesn’t even hesitate before he agrees. The kid’s a little intimidating like this, but the harshness of his words is well-deserved, so Jeong Jeong doesn’t comment on it.

“I believe you were going to explain your side of the story?” he invites, not missing Zuko’s flinch.

“I – yeah. It’s a long story, though,” he warns. “And not very pleasant.”

Three years of absence haven’t erased his memory of Zuko, and Jeong Jeong still understands what he means, even when he doesn’t say it. He also knows that firebenders don’t burn easy, due to the nature of their element and its control, and that an injury like the one on Zuko’s face was deliberate.

More pieces come together in this very strange, blasting-jelly-ridden puzzle, and Jeong Jeong… doesn’t like the picture it forms.

“We have enough time.”

* * *

_Zuko yelps as he nearly trips over a wire strung across a corridor and flails wildly to try to regain his balance. Iroh’s hand snaps out to yank him back by the collar, moving automatically to support him until he gets his bearings. But Zuko pushes him away and chooses to crouch before the wire, poking lightly at it curiously._

_“It’s still active, but that doesn’t make any sense. The Sun Warriors died out thousands of years ago, but their traps are still… live…” He slowly stands up and frowns at Iroh. “Uncle.”_

_“What?” Iroh asks innocently._

_Zuko squints suspiciously at him but shakes his head, gesturing for him to lead the way silently. Iroh has to suppress his smile at Zuko’s astuteness – he’s always been more attentive in his history and strategy lessons, so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised at his nephew’s behaviour._

_Iroh leads them into a chamber and is only slightly disheartened to find the doors closed. He knows the Dancing Dragon kata perfectly, but had hoped to show his nephew the statues inside. A flicker of light passes over his eyes before landing on the red stone above the doorway. Iroh turns back to his nephew, who has his headpiece tilted_ just so _to reflect the light onto the sun stone._

_“I thought it was like the temple on Crescent Island,” he explains, flushing slightly. “You need bending to open those doors, and apparently Roku’s spirit can pass through to the physical world for a moment when the sunlight hits his crown on the Winter Solstice.”_

_Iroh blinks. “Was – was that in any of your studies?” Even when he’d been Crown Prince, he’d never really learned this on his own – a lot of spiritual searching had led to that, not books and lessons, so he wonders where Zuko learned this from._

_“Oh, no – Fire Sage – um, one of the Fire Sages told me,” Zuko corrects hastily. “When we visited the island. Before.”_

_Iroh supposes it was between the time had besieged Ba Sing Se and his return to the capital, since that was the only_ before _that made sense, anyway. He nods and is pleasantly surprised when the doors slowly grind open – the last time he’d been here, it had been a matter of chance that had led to the doors opening for him, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about explaining the history behind this style of firebending to his nephew when it’s all laid out for him._

_Zuko squints in the darkness but doesn’t light a fire to try to see better. Iroh knows better than to do so himself, and he’s slightly thankful that the door remains open, letting in at least a little bit of light._

_“What are these statues?” Zuko asks out loud, and it’s like a signal for the armour-clad people to drop from high nooks around them._

_Iroh sighs._ Not this again _._

* * *

“I thought you said that you didn’t want to teach the Avatar,” Zuko observes, amused, over Jeong Jeong’s shoulder as he scrawls out a letter to Piandao over a makeshift desk. It’s been a while since he’s exchanged correspondence with anyone, he hadn’t exactly planned to fully furnish this run-down shack in the middle of the woods.

But he also hadn’t expected the teenager to sneak up on him, and accidentally snaps the charcoal stick in half in surprise. Zuko snickers, and Jeong Jeong glares at him.

“I thought you wanted me to write this,” he countered.

“Oh, I still do. I just thought you were going to send away Aang and his friends, that’s all.”

Jeong grumbles under his breath. “The Avatar can be… persuasive.”

Zuko frowns. “He’s a hyperactive twelve-year-old.”

“He summoned Roku.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.”

Jeong Jeong sighs and pushes the letter aside, tossing the broken pieces of charcoal to the ground where they crumble even more. He can make another one, there’s plenty of wood to go around.

“Besides, if the Avatar finds himself in need to control the fires around him, I wouldn’t mind helping him find that control.”

Zuko smirks, the amused glint returning to his eye. “And how’s that working for you, _Sifu Jeong Jeong_?”

He harrumphs. “Not very well,” he admits. “The boy lacks patience.”

“He’s twelve,” Zuko points out once more. “You said the same thing about me when I asked you teach me the _Falcon’s Flight_ kata.”

Technically, Zuko had pestered him until Jeong Jeong had given in, but he gets the point. “You still had better control at that age. I’m surprised that the Avatar has none.”

“That’s not fair on him, he’s barely started learning waterbending. Besides, aren’t Avatars supposed to know they’re, well, _Avatars_ , when they’re sixteen? Aang said that the airbending masters told him when he turned twelve.”

“Sozin’s campaign–”

“What were they going to do, send a pacifist twelve-year-old to the front lines?” Zuko asks incredulously, and pales. Jeong Jeong’s mind screeches to a halt when it hits that _oh,_ they really _are_ discussing the possibility of sending a kid to fight the Fire Lord, who already established the lack of restraint he holds against harming children.

He feels vaguely sick, the way he did last night when Zuko told him about the Fire Lord’s anticipated ambush plans – and when Jeong Jeong had quietly confirmed that the reinforcements had indiscriminately swung fire at them instead of protecting their side of soldiers. His eye catches the scar across Zuko’s face again, the way it creeps past his eye to his ear, and something inside him twists unpleasantly. Children shouldn’t have ever been hurt by the war, and yet Jeong Jeong knows far too many of the kind.

_The Fire Nation has a lot to answer for_ , he decides, _and the Fire Lord will be held responsible for his actions.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have been waiting for this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Jeong Jeong watches Zuko and the Water Tribe boy spar from a distance and can’t help but assess their fighting styles the way he and Piandao had done on multiple occasions on the balcony that overlooked the training grounds.

 _He lacks training but has enough enthusiasm to make up for it,_ Jeong Jeong observes.

The kid throws something at Zuko, who ducks and doesn’t miss a beat even when the object spins away. He lunges forward, instantly seizing his opportunity, when a similarly sized blur whizzes back into the scene and clocks the firebender right upside the head, causing him to stumble and fall on his face. The Water Tribe kid reaches out hastily and grabs him right before he hits the ground, and Jeong Jeong would be worried about Zuko if not for the way he gingerly rubs at the point of impact, carefully feeling around for broken skin.

“I didn’t think it would hit you that hard, oh, spirits, I’ve only used it for _hunting_ before–”

“Sokka,” Zuko interrupts, sounding a little exasperated but otherwise perfectly alright, “it’s fine. Things happen when people spar, and I’m fine. It hurts a bit, but it isn’t serious.”

“Zuko, a boomerang can snap an animal’s neck while hunting.”

“I wasn’t aware you had forests in the South Pole, I thought you’d hunt in open spaces.”

“Yeah, but – okay, I get it, I wasn’t throwing it that hard, but it’s still a hunting weapon that can cause incredible damage.”

Zuko grumbles a little more but lets Sokka check him over for injuries. It’s at this point that the flighty (heh) airbender zips down the mountain and starts complaining about his meditation practice. Jeong Jeong had assumed that a monk would know about meditating, but apparently Zuko’s right about the Avatar being, well, a twelve-year-old, hyperactive boy.

He bites back a few swear words – _don’t teach the monk to curse_ – but silently leads him towards a stone by the river and hands him a leaf. It’s a simple exercise for most beginner firebenders – most of them find it unappealing in its reward, but eventually understand the importance of such an exercise, so he feels no guilt in setting the Avatar this task. Zuko, now thoroughly rumpled from the spar, and also having had his hair rubbed into disarray, joins him as he starts to talk about the theory behind controlling firebending.

“Uncle always says that a firebending master has impeccable breath control,” he asserts once Jeong Jeong finishes talking.

Aang hums. “But what does the leaf have to do with it?”

The hole steadily stays at the same size, and Jeong Jeong has to admit, he’s impressed by the instinctive restraint the kid shows. Zuko bends down and picks up a few fallen leaves, holding one out before the rest.

“A dry leaf can catch fire instantly,” he explains. “Forest fires are most common in dry forests for that reason. The Fire Nation is generally a series of islands, so we don’t have many of those, but I’ve heard that in the Earth Kingdom, they can set a good portion of the forests ablaze. Because once one of the trees catches fire,” – he sets alight the single leaf, bringing it close to the clump in his other hand – “all it takes is a single stray breeze,” – he drops the leaf onto his open palm, and soon enough all the other leaves join the first as fuel – “for it to burn the whole thing down.”

Zuko tilts his hand after letting the flames out, and a small stream of ashes drifts to the forest floor. “And that’s not counting thatched roofs and people’s clothes. A lot of damage can be done when a flame goes out of control, so most firebenders learn at the start to control their fire before they actually learn any forms.”

Aang’s eyes are wide with the revelation, but he nods eagerly. Jeong Jeong decides to take a backseat to this lesson, and suspects that he might not have to teach the Avatar firebending after all.

“Fire is alive,” Jeong Jeong volunteers. “It breathes, it grows, without a bender, a rock will not throw itself! But fire will spread and destroy everything in its path if one does not have the will to control it!”

Zuko stares at him, and Aang looks mildly alarmed. “I mean, yeah, it’s dangerous,” he allows. “But that’s not all fire does.”

Jeong Jeong is _not_ discussing the philosophy of firebending with his partner’s kid. He can deal with a lot of things, but this won’t be one of them.

* * *

_“Uncle…”_

_“Trust me, Zuko,” he says under his breath, holding his nephew’s gaze for a moment before Zuko nods decisively, reaching out for the massive flame. The Sun Warrior that passes part of the fire into his hands narrows his eyes when Zuko flinches a little and holds it carefully away from himself – despite his control, his fright is clear to all. He waits for the Sun Warriors to relay their instructions to him before following them methodically, but Iroh has to wonder how much of it he actually hears and how much of it is pure instinct._

_“Nephew, you need to breathe,” he coaxes gently when Zuko’s flame starts to sputter. Zuko’s eyes are too wide, too scared of his own element which_ isn’t healthy _, and Iroh wonders whether he’ll have to push him a little more when the flame stops flickering, becoming stable once more._

_“How does it feel?” he asks._

_“I know that fire is alive, in a way,” Zuko says slowly, “but this feels different._ Ancient _. I feel small, but not in a bad way?”_

_He chuckles. “I believe those were my exact words when I came here the first time.”_

_“You were here before?”_

_“Once, when I was a different man,” he replies. “Before Lu Ten was born, I was part of the dragon hunts – I assume you know how I received my title?”_

‘Dragon of the West’ _is not a title he likes to claim anymore, but he had taken great pride in it at one point. He’s not going to bury his history while he tries to move beyond it, so he has no qualms in discussing these events with Zuko, even if the familiar sting of regret returns with a vengeance._

_“My search for the last dragons brought me here, to the ruins of an almost forgotten civilization, all because I remembered something from my history lessons about the Sun Warriors being the original firebenders.”_

_“Huh. Then they did this to you too?”_

_Iroh nods. “The way of fire is corrupt, in the Fire Nation. Before Fire Lord Sozin’s time, people loved and used their fire as an extension of themselves – it wasn’t always a weapon or a tool, but a lifestyle.”_

_Zuko follows Iroh, enraptured by this history, thoroughly distracted from the open flame in his palms. Just like Iroh had planned._

_“When the Fire Nation waged war on the rest of the world, our peace and prosperity became second to furthering an agenda. Killing the Air Nomads was the final stop in snapping the connection between ourselves and fire, the way firebenders are supposed to be connected. It was said that even non-benders would feel connected to fire, even if they couldn’t manipulate it the way benders can. However, all of that changed when Fire Lord Sozin declared war. I never saw the world where people lived with flame without using it as a tool, but I’ve heard stories.”_

_“But the Sun Warriors still follow those rules,” Zuko guesses, and Iroh nods._

_“Precisely. They taught me a few valuable lessons that day that made me a greater bender, and I hope you will be able to learn what you need to today.”_

_They approach the large platform and follow the rest of the procedure as the Chief had told them to, before slowly climbing the stairs – Iroh constantly checking to see if Zuko had worn himself out yet, or felt dizzy from the height and exertion. They bow in the position that the warriors had shown them, extending the flame as an offering, and wait._

* * *

“Firebending isn’t a _curse_ ,” Zuko protests. “Yeah, it’s dangerous, but so is walking up to a sword when someone is swinging it in your direction. It can go out of control easily, but the same can be said when an earthbender bends away the wrong stone and triggers a landslide.”

“And yet, more injuries can be seen among firebenders than others,” Jeong Jeong retorts.

“Yeah, because the way we teach people to firebend is messed up and designed for war! Being more flexible in technique would mean more variations, but also more control for those who can’t stick to the traditional katas perfectly. And injuries happen with _any_ kind of bending – Aang probably accidentally knocked himself into a number of walls when he first airbent–”

“That’s fair, I still do that sometimes,” Aang interrupts unhelpfully, and Zuko waves at him as if that makes his point somehow.

“And earthbending means more opportunity to bruise or break – just because it’s not a burn doesn’t mean it isn’t more dangerous,” he concludes.

“Still, burns are the injuries that can turn sour easily. You know that firebenders are usually given lessons about fire safety before–”

“None of that _helps_ when it _matters_ ,” Zuko seethes. “And it only _matters_ when it’s deliberate. _Control_ wasn’t a problem when Azula kept burning the bushes or turtleducks or _me_ , and it _definitely_ didn’t wasn’t the Fire Lord’s problem when he held me down and _set my face on fire_.”

“The – you – _what_?” Katara and Aang, who had been watching from the sidelines till now, look absolutely horrified at Zuko’s words, while Sokka looks positively murderous. Oops.

Jeong Jeong snaps into damage-control mode, but Aang beats him to speech. “Why would the Fire Lord… _do_ that?”

Zuko tries not to flinch back – he’s only really talked about it with his father and Uncle Iroh, and now Jeong Jeong and Sokka. He doesn’t think he can do it again at such short notice. He casts a slightly helpless look at Sokka, who still looks furious but takes it with a nod, turning to his sister and the Avatar. He diverts their questions and righteous fury with a simple “I’ll explain later, okay? He’s already told me about it, there’s no need to push to relive it one more time,” and leads them away so that he can talk privately with Jeong Jeong.

He doesn’t know these people very well, but he’s eternally grateful for just how _decent_ they are. They decide to go practice waterbending by the river, and Zuko simply stares blankly at Jeong Jeong.

Who simply pulls him into a hug.

That, more than anything else, is enough to snap him out of the funk he’s working himself into – Jeong Jeong _hugging_ him voluntarily isn’t something he thought he’d experience in this lifetime. Both because he’s only this touchy around Dad, and because of the whole ‘deserter-with-questionable-living-status’ deal.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Jeong Jeong says quietly. “Fire has hurt more people than the rest of the elements in this war, and seeing you with such a terrible wound… brought up some unfortunate things I internalized after my desertion.”

“Fire isn’t inherently bad,” Zuko reiterates instead of dealing with his emotions like Dad and Uncle keep telling him to. “Control is important, I’m with you on that, but you can’t tell Aang about the dangers of fire considering he doesn’t really get it, even though he probably knows what the Fire Nation did to the Air Nomads already.”

“It’s too grand a scale,” Jeong Jeong muses aloud. Zuko nods in affirmation.

“Right, but you have to tell him the _good_ things about fire too, otherwise he’ll just be scared of hurting people. He’s a _monk_ , they have – they have rules about these things!”

“And yet, fire has done more harm than good recently,” the man counters, which is a fair point, but not what Zuko is getting at in the slightest. Jeong Jeong mentions _control_ , yes, but what he really means is _fear_.

Zuko gets it, really. At one point, he too had been absolutely terrified of fire. Learning about the massacre of the 41st does give him some perspective about why Jeong Jeong feels the same way.

“Do you remember the fire-dancers that used to visit every Solstice?” he asks abruptly. “They were here this time for the Fire Days festival too.”

“I – yes, I remember.”

“And their displays,” Zuko says, moving back to create a ball of flame in his hands, meticulously twisting it into the vague approximation of a dragon – or snake, really, or worm – it’s wiggly-looking and doesn’t adhere to regular fire rules, so he hopes it’s enough to get his point across.

And apparently it does, since Jeong Jeong’s eyes go wide. “You–”

“I’m experimenting,” he admits. “But it needs an _insane_ amount of control, so you could talk to him about that too. There’s beauty in fire as well as pain, it’s why we revere Agni instead of cursing his name. Why would we be given firebending if it’s only used to hurt?”

He suddenly feels self-conscious at the look that Jeong Jeong shoots him, only broken when someone screams from the edge of the camp and a clamour of noise breaks out, like they’re sounding alarms. His fire goes out, but for a second before it does, he thinks he sees a hint of colour in there. Interesting, but not helpful right now.

The two of them exchange a look, and sprint in the direction of the scream.

* * *

_The two dragons loop around them and Zuko just stands, paralyzed by the sight._

_“I thought you said you’d killed them?” he asks Uncle under his breath. Somehow, he’s still heard past the rush of wind in his ears._

_“I might have lied,” is his mildly amused response._

_“What do we do now?” Zuko asks, eyes not leaving the massive figures before him._

_“It’s up to you, nephew.” The unspoken_ I’ll follow you, whatever you choose to do _warms his heart, and Zuko just nods, exhaling shakily._

_“Yeah, okay…”_

_Then he thinks about the way the dragons are looping around in patterns and remembers the statues back in that chamber they’d broken into. Perhaps…_

_He moves towards the edges of the pedestal and starts to perform the kata that the statues had shown, using the fire to accentuate his positions without actually adding his own flames to it. He’s not sure he can take making his own fire, and even holding this flame had pushed his limit, but he thinks he can manage a single kata with sustained fire. Uncle joins him and completes his own set of steps, both of them pushing the fire into and past both their fists in a powerful blast that sets Zuko’s nerves on fire._

_It’s been months since he’s bent anything except a candle flame, and he’s forgotten how good it used to feel when it didn’t hurt._

_The dragons spiral out and fly to the sides of the pedestal, opening their giant maws to exhale the largest fires Zuko has seen in his life. He yelps and tosses his hands up to cover his face, backing up into Uncle by instinct, but the man simply taps his arms to coax them down and rests his own hands on Zuko’s shoulders as he_ looks _._

_He’s heard legends of dragon fire, but none of them said a thing about colourful flames._

_It’s_ beautiful _._

 _His eyes tear up when he realises just how big of a secret he has been told, and that this might be the only time he’ll ever get to see something so beautiful. Even the scarred eye feels damp, and he’d thought the tear ducts had been burned dry, but apparently, he was_ wrong _._

_“I understand,” he murmurs, and the flames fade into embers._

* * *

The first sign of trouble appears in the form of a sobbing Katara, who runs to a safe spot by the river with her hands held close to her chest. Zuko catches sight of the reddened skin and lets her pass without question. Past the line of bushes, he can hear Sokka yelling about finding Appa and Aang. They call out a warning for the rest of the camp to pack up and leave, and to be prepared for combat if they need to face off some of the soldiers, before racing off to face their attackers.

Zuko skids to a halt hallway to tie his mask back on – he can’t risk getting recognized by one of the soldiers, so he readies himself to pull out the swords at the moment he needs them, but gets into a firebending stance anyway. He thinks he’ll need both the advantages for this fight, and his instincts haven’t proven him wrong so far.

“Master Jeong Jeong,” Zhao greets, and Zuko’s heart sinks. Spirits, why did it have to be _this_ clown of all people? “I see you’ve now advanced ranks from _deserter_ to _traitor_.”

“I see you still haven’t learned anything, despite all I’ve taught you,” he responds icily. “You’ve always embraced the destruction of fire, Zhao. I don’t know why I thought I could teach you otherwise.”

“It’s Admiral Zhao now, actually,” the man says, and Zuko wants to shove a fistful of flames up his throat.

“The title will not help you against the Avatar. You’re no match for him!”

“I think I can handle a child,” he sneers.

“Pohuai Stronghold says otherwise,” Zuko taunts, using the technique Xiaoli taught him to mask his voice and inflections. It had been an actor’s trick, but he can’t deny that it has other uses.

Zhao snarls. “I’ve found you now. And I’ll bring back the Avatar _and_ the two of you to the Fire Lord, see if _he_ shows you mercy.”

Zuko wants to laugh. _Mercy_ has never been a part of Fire Lord Ozai’s vocabulary.

He listens to his impulses, though, and throws a fireball at Zhao. The man blocks it easily and smiles.

“I suspected that you might have been a traitor to your people,” he says, creepy and predator-like, “and I’m glad to have proof of the same. I’ll definitely enjoy bringing you back to the Fire Nation in chains.”

With that, the fight commences. The three of them are locked in combat, exchanging bolts of fire and diverting them aside safely whenever they can, when Zhao pulls a move that Zuko has prepared for since the moment he returned home with a horrible, festering burn covering his face. Ready and expecting its trajectory, Zuko drops his stance and deflects the fire easily, but is slightly unprepared for the fireball that follows, aimed directly at his chest. He twists to dodge it, missing it by a fraction, but the movement is accompanied by the oddest sensation of heat against his hair and his mask _dropping to the forest floor._

 _Spirits, no,_ he pleads silently. He ducks to the ground immediately to pick up the mask, but another fireball reaches it first and causes the wood to burst into flames. Zuko yelps and leaps back, but the damage is done, and his face is on full display for Zhao to see.

From the look on Zhao’s face, it’s clear that he recognises him too.

Jeong Jeong kicks the mask to Zhao’s feet and lets sparks trail from the impact, effectively setting the grass on fire and leaving Zhao to try and put it out lest he gets burnt.

“You should leave,” he says curtly, hauling Zuko away from the scene.

Zuko, still a little in shock at how unexpected the move had been, needs a moment to respond. By that time, Jeong Jeong pulls him behind the cover of some trees.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, and the man immediately shakes his head.

“No, absolutely not–”

“You can’t convince me otherwise,” he says shortly, just as Katara runs up to them.

“Are you – I saw Zhao shoot fire at you but you were too far away – are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Katara,” he assures her. She narrows her eyes at him but nods.

“You didn’t say that you were a firebender,” she says conversationally.

“Um.”

“Calm down,” she adds, rolling her eyes a little, “I was going to ask if you’d teach Aang firebending. He’ll need a teacher eventually, after learning waterbending and earthbending.”

They don’t bother confirming that Jeong Jeong would rather not teach Aang, since he’s already made his point clear, but Zuko tilts his head in consideration.

“Tell you what,” he offers. “I’m going with Jeong Jeong to the nearest safe house to make sure that everyone’s safe, then I’ll head into the Earth Kingdom. The rest of you head up North, and once you and Aang master waterbending, let’s see if I can’t find him an earthbender and meet up with you guys in time. And hopefully, by that time, I’ll have completed the Master’s sets and tests, so I’ll be able to teach him too.”

Katara’s eyes widen a little and she smiles. “That… would make our work a whole lot easier,” she admits. “Yeah, Zuko, that sounds amazing – only question is, how do we actually meet up when we have to?”

Jeong Jeong interjects here. “If your paths are truly intertwined, then Zuko should be able to find the Avatar once again. Now, _go_.”

Katara nods, bows to the ex-soldier, and hugs Zuko lightly, taking him by surprise. “I’ll tell Sokka about the plan, he’ll be sure to come up with something,” she says. “See you.”

“You too,” Zuko says, and watches her run into the woods.

An orange-yellow blur joins her as the two of them vanish into the dense cover, and Jeong Jeong raises an eyebrow at Zuko when he looks up at him questioningly.

“For what it’s worth, I believe you made the right choice.”

“I know,” he tells him. “I’m just worried about Zhao. If the Fire Lord finds out I’m helping Aang, I don’t know what he’ll do to Dad or Uncle.”

Jeong Jeong sucks in a breath. “They left you alone last time,” he decides, wrapping an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and leading him off the trail, deeper into uncharted territory. Or so Zuko assumes.

“Whatever happens, I’m sure we can deal with it just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I didn't want to take this moment away from Aang, because performing the Dancing Dragon was his idea and I love that for him - but I can imagine 13-14 year old Zuko, elbow-deep in theater scrolls, thinking it up in this au. Aang will get his moment later (as he deserves), but I'm still working on how.
> 
> I didn't want to dump a whole bunch of meta into the notes, but if you guys want to check out my reasoning for the changes in firebending styles during the Hundred Year War, [here's a link](https://silveryinkystar.tumblr.com/post/635225816164368384/ive-seen-a-lot-of-people-talk-about-how) to the tumblr post I made about it!
> 
> Also, Xiaoli is a friend from Shu Jing, who works in theater and intends to be an actor after completing schooling. Zuko 110% annoyed her into teaching him some things she knew and decided to also use them while he Blue Spirit-ed around.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW** for non-graphic violence and description of injuries (burns and other lacerations)

“I could teach you to waterbend,” Princess Yue offers over Katara’s seething. Sokka startles a little – he hadn’t seen her enter the lavish chambers they’d been ushered into.

Katara stops mid-rant and stares. “What?”

“You’re a waterbender?” Sokka asks. “No one mentioned it at the party.”

Yue shrugs, making the movement seem graceful and dignified. “They think I should stick to healing with the other women,” she says, sounding a little bitter. “You can’t let anyone know that I can combat waterbend, because that won’t end well.”

“Of course we won’t,” Katara assures her. “Aang, you’re still learning from Pakku, right?”

“Right,” Aang agrees hesitantly. “Do you want me to teach you the forms–”

“That won’t be the best idea,” Yue interrupts smoothly. “If the elders find out that you’ve been teaching Katara, they’d stop teaching you as well for disrespecting customs.”

“That’s so – _ugh_!”

“What about Kyoshi?” Sokka asks flatly. “If she’d come up North asking to learn from them, would they have told her to stick to healing?”

Yue frowns at him, and Sokka shrugs. “A few friends of mine told me about her life. She learned waterbending in the South, and we generally don’t have restrictions against benders learning different forms of bending. Or,” he adds darkly, “we _didn’t_ , before Katara became the last one in the entire South Pole.”

Yue’s eyes widen and she swivels round to Katara. “Are there truly no more waterbenders in the South?”

She shakes her head. “I’m the only one,” she admits. “It’s why I came here to find a teacher, I thought that Aang and I could learn together.”

“Objectively a good plan,” Yue murmurs. “We can’t just find an empty hall to practice the forms in, though, we’ll need to go somewhere far safer than that.”

“I’m assuming you have something in mind?” Sokka asks, brightening up at the opportunity to explore the place. Yue grins at him.

“Oh, yes.” With that, she gestures for them all to follow her, and they do – silent, unwilling to argue, and more than a little excited (if a little apprehensive).

They enter a closed-off clearing through a narrow passage that is almost perfectly hidden from view, and as soon as Sokka steps inside, a rush of warm air blows past him.

“What _is_ this place?” he asks, taking in the grass – _grass!_ – growing across the clearing. There’s a small pond in the middle – too big to be an ice-fishing hole, and spots two fish swimming around, looping around each other endlessly.

“It’s the most spiritual place in the North Pole,” Yue explains, laughing softly when Aang throws himself onto the grass happily. “You know how waterbenders are powered by the moon, right?”

Sokka stares at her blankly, though his expression tips into an amused smirk when she curses under her breath. “Right, no waterbenders.”

He senses a longer explanation, so while Katara melts some of the snow around the walls to practice the forms she already knows from the scroll she’d stolen, and he knows that between her and Aang, he can sit down for a while and listen to the princess talk about something she’s clearly interested in. So he does, and gestures for her to join him. Yue accepts his silent invitation and leans against her elbows, looking up at the sky.

“You were saying something about the moon?”

“Right!” Yue sits upright and crosses her legs. “The legends say that the moon was the first waterbender. Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tide and learned how to do it themselves. A lot like Katara, actually.”

Sokka looks back at his sister, now executing a perfect water-whip, and finds that he can pin down the push-pull movements in the form. “Huh. Turning one’s energy back to them,” he observes.

“Exactly! I was just coming to that, actually.”

“It sounds a bit like how the Kyoshi Warriors fight, they turn their opponents’ force against them. I just thought those two things were connected.”

Yue hums. “The Northern Water Tribe has been isolated from the rest of the world for too long,” she says. “Most of our information is outdated, save a few contacts we still have across the Earth Kingdom and–”

A stream of water heads towards them, and Sokka yelps before scrambling backward, mindful of their discretion while knowing all too well how being a spectator to Katara’s bending was liable to get them drenched. No water hits them, though, and he’s a little embarrassed when he remembers that Yue is a waterbender, and the princess just deflected the rogue stream of water away from them neatly back towards his sister. Katara ‘catches’ it and grins sheepishly.

“Sorry!”

“Watch it! I’m _trying_ to listen to Yue’s very interesting history lecture about waterbenders here!”

“Oh, so when _I_ talk about waterbending, it’s stupid _woo-woo magic_ , but when someone else–”

“As your brother, I am bound by right to disagree with you on most counts,” he says loftily. “And anyway, this stuff doesn’t sound like anything Gran-Gran told us. I thought it was interesting, that’s all.”

“Sure, nerd.”

“ _Hey!_ ”

“Is this what siblings are like, normally?” Yue asks Aang, who sighs.

“I guess. Back at the Air Temples, either everyone was your sibling by name, or no one. We never really cared much about blood families, it was pretty sweet.”

Yue nods. “If it helps, I never agreed with my father’s choice to remain out of the war,” she says. “I wanted to help our sister tribe, but as you can probably tell, women aren’t exactly given much precedence on any matter that isn’t homemaking.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Sokka says bluntly. “I mean, I was kind of a jerk about it before, but I couldn’t – and wouldn’t – stop any of the women in our village from fighting, if that was what they wanted to.”

“I suppose you have different rules in the South, but here, it’s a lot more rigid,” Yue laments. “Even though I’m a princess, my jurisdiction is incredibly limited because of the men here. It’s why Aang can’t teach Katara. If _I_ do that instead, we can at least pretend that we’re practicing field healing, or something.”

“That sounds awful,” Katara says sympathetically. “I can’t imagine Dad not consulting the women of the tribe before coming to a unilateral decision.”

Yue frowns. “I thought that leaving to fight was a choice that the men made?”

Sokka shrugs noncommittally. “Kind of,” he says slowly. “All the men decided to go fight, but a lot of the women had recently had babies or were going to. They thought it would be too risky if _both_ the parents of the kids were lost at war. It would’ve been worse than it is now, hardly anyone would have been left.”

At this, Katara flinches. Sokka wishes he could take back his words, because now his stomach churns a little at the thought of his father dying at war. Spirits, he’s been carefully avoiding thinking about it for three years, and especially after running into Bato again – he’s not going to break his streak _now_.

“That makes sense,” Yue says. “If they didn’t have kids…”

“More fighters from the South, but a lot less _South_ ,” Sokka finishes.

* * *

_Zuko’s not exactly sure what he’s doing on the harbour of a random Fire Nation port. Perhaps it’s because messenger hawks are easier to find in port towns, especially Fire Nation occupied ones, or some subconscious feeling that brought him here. He’s also not sure why he feels a little more on-edge than he usually does, past the general level of caution he exercises during missions he runs, but he trusts his instincts and carefully surveys his surroundings. Market stalls, sailors bustling around and shouting at their crew, travelling merchants haggling away with the people who stop to buy their wares, nothing particularly out of the ordinary._

_Zuko does the unwise thing and moves further along the harbour onto a less-occupied pier. It’s practically devoid of other people; a single rusty ship – an older model from the Fire Nation – is docked there, seemingly empty in itself. He wonders whether he should send another message to his father before finding some sort of passage to the Earth Kingdom, and immediately cuts of his train of thought when something flashes brightly in the corner of his eye._

Metal _, he registers. Not unlike the reflection from his swords when he uses them to temporarily blind his attackers and escape._

 _Another flash of light accompanies the first, and a rolling ball of flame hurtles towards him. Zuko swears and dives out of the way, throwing up his own shield of flame to ward off the first, but is unprepared for it to_ explode _in mid-air._

 _The wave of heat and pressure send him flying back, and he barely has time to register what just happened before he hits the –_ too cold _– water_.

* * *

“So you don’t have palaces in the Southern Water Tribe?”

“No, we don’t have the benders to build them,” Sokka replies. She frowns.

“You don’t need benders to maintain old structures, though. Palaces can last for thirty to fifty years without much upkeep, and close to eighty if you pack in some snow every so often.”

“Well… even if we did, I guess the entire population of the South could fit into a single wing. We don’t have use for palaces back home, and besides, we don’t really see the point. It’s so different, up here.”

“I suppose,” she murmurs. Specks of black start to mix in with white snow, and Yue stops walking when one lands on the fur lining of her parka.

“Strange,” she comments, and Sokka turns to frown at her, seemingly not noticing the change. “I’ve never seen black snow before.”

Sokka’s eyes dart to her sleeve and the black specks that dot it, then away at the snow. He stills completely, rigid as a plank of ice.

“It’s not snow,” he says tonelessly, “it’s soot. I’ve seen it before, right before my village was attacked.”

Yue’s eyes widen when she realises what he means, squinting past the blinding reflected light of the snow to the horizon.

“Not the Fire Nation…”

The grim look on her friend’s face tells her everything.

“They’ve closed in on the North Pole,” he says darkly. “And from the looks of it, there’s a lot of them.”

Yue blinks away the last of the glare – and _stares_ at the armada of metal ships that approach their coastal line.

“We have to go warn everyone,” Sokka says urgently, and Yue nods.

“You’re right – I’ll rally the women, even if they don’t let us do anything, it’ll be good to be prepared.”

“I have a feeling that even if none of the women end up fighting, we’re going to need a lot of healers.”

It suddenly strikes Yue how _stupid_ the custom is to keep men from learning healing. If they were to fight in the front lines, surely such a skill would keep them going for longer? Her thoughts are broken when Sokka squeezes her forearm gently before racing back into the palace. She follows right at his heels, snatching up the hemline of her parka to avoid tripping on it. They sharply turn across corners, startling more than a few palace staff, and eventually nod to each other when they reach a divergent path before sprinting off as best as they can without slipping on the ice. When Yue reaches Yugoda’s healing hut, she nearly bowls right over Katara, who swiftly grabs her forearms to steady her, looking more than a little alarmed.

“Are you alright?” she asks, looking her over. Yue waves her away.

“I’m fine, but I don’t think any of us are going to be,” she says. “The Fire Nation’s reached our shores. Sokka and I ran back to warn everyone.”

Katara nods and steps aside. “You think we should warn the women too,” she observes when Yue darts inside.

“Yep.”

Master Yugoda hears her out as she summarises what she’d seen, not revealing a hint of shock or surprise with her expression. “Thank you for letting me know, Princess Yue. I’ll make sure that the women have plans in place in case the siege plans fail.”

“So it’ll definitely become a siege?” Katara asks softly.

Yugoda nods. “Unfortunately, yes. However, we do have most of the resources we need behind these walls. Tui and La are on our side, I’m certain of it, Katara.”

“We should go practice our waterbending forms,” Yue says to the younger girl. “It’ll help us prepare, just in case.”

Katara nods, and the pair of them head off to an abandoned clearing to run through the Master’s set of forms once.

“Just what do you both think you’re doing?”

Yue stumbles through her last set, the water around her splashing to the ground and soaking her boots. Katara winces and swiftly redirects her own jet of water into the ice again as they face off an angry Master Pakku. Tui and La may be on the side of the tribe, but it doesn’t seem to be that way for both of the girls.

“Um. Practicing field healing?”

* * *

_Iroh wonders if he should just lock his nephew up in a cushion-lined room. With the way things just went, he just might do it even if it makes Zuko furious. At least he won’t be in danger of having a heart attack then._

_The scene is grotesquely familiar: Zuko on a mattress before him, with severe injuries and sleeping off the pain. The only difference is that this time he’s on a countdown – to what, Iroh isn’t quite sure._

_He carefully dips the rag in cool water once more and gently cleans away the blood from the cuts on his face. A few burns spread past his already scarred eye down his cheek, all the way to his shoulder, and he wonders exactly how his nephew got those injuries. It can’t have been a fight with another soldier; Zuko’s nearly a master and can easily deflect fire before it gets too close to him. No, he had to have been taken by surprise._

_Iroh’s just lucky that he got to him quickly – while it had been terrifying to see his nephew clinging limply onto a floating plank of wood, he’d still been_ alive _, and still would be. Unfortunately, he’d also be in a lot of pain, but he knows that Zuko would consider that a secondary priority to the danger he’d been in._

_Said teenager rouses with a soft moan, eyes glazed as they blink open. “Uncle?”_

_“Peace, nephew,” he says quickly. “You’re quite badly injured. I was lucky to have found you in time, before someone else did.”_

_Zuko sits up slowly, wincing as his joints protest. “The harbour…”_

_“The pier was destroyed completely,” Iroh reports. “I normally wouldn’t ask you something so trivial when you’re still nowhere near recovery, but… what_ happened _?”_

 _“I think I just faced off my first assassin,” Zuko says breathlessly, as though just registering what had occurred on the pier a few hours ago. “It was so_ weird _– the explosion was from bending, I could feel it. And I kind of saw it from the corner of my eye, so it wasn’t triggered from a distance or timed.”_

_“Blasting powder?”_

_“I couldn’t smell any,” Zuko recalls. “Or jelly, either. I think – I think it was Zhao.”_

_Iroh’s mood instantly darkens. “He hasn’t reported you to the Fire Lord yet,” he points out._

_“I guess it was for this,” Zuko realizes. “I rescued the Avatar from under his nose, but he saw my face when I found Jeong Jeong. I was wondering why I hadn’t found any posters of my treason yet, and it makes sense that it’s because he wants to get back at me himself.”_

_“He’s not doing it himself, if you’re right,” Iroh growls. “Hiring assassins is dishonourable, even by Ozai’s standards.”_

_“Yeah, but it’s_ Zhao _. He’s an idiot, and a prideful one.”_

_Iroh chuckles a little. “You’re not wrong. But what are you going to do from here?”_

_Zuko thinks about this for a minute. “What are_ you _doing here, Uncle? Surely you wouldn’t be out in some random northern port when you could be in the capital with Azula, or at Shu Jing with Dad.”_

_“The Fire Lord ordered me to consult with Admiral Zhao in his campaign to besiege the Northern Water Tribe.”_

_Zuko laughs incredulously, then winces and brings a hand to his ribs. “He’s an even bigger idiot than I thought. The Northern Water Tribe may have stayed out of the war for a century, but they’ve got all that infrastructure still, on their side. What’s he trying to do?”_

_“I’m not sure,” Iroh admits. “But it can’t be anything good.”_

* * *

“And you know what he said after that? ‘I’ve courted a lot of girls, but Yue is the finest – _she comes with the most perks_.’”

Katara nearly drops the water she holds to Sokka’s face. Yue scowls.

“I can’t _believe_ my father thought he’d be a good future husband for me,” she grumbles. “Hahn’s said some things before, but this is just gross.”

“What does he mean by _perks_?” Katara asks him, and Sokka winces when the healing water adds some pressure to his busted lip.

“Ow, Katara – I’ll tell you, jeez, I know you’re upset, but don’t take it out on me. I _am_ the one who punched Hahn in the face.”

“Sorry.” She retracts the water, inspecting his face carefully and turning to Yue, who swiftly does the same.

“Nice work there, you didn’t even leave behind a trace of a mark,” the princess praises. Katara beams, and Sokka grins. Yeah, he teases Katara a lot about her bending, but he’s proud of how far along her training she’s come.

“I asked him that, by the way,” he tells her. “It made me even madder – ‘cause apparently Yue’s great and all that, but _the points he’ll get with the Chief aren’t bad either_.”

Katara’s water freezes into a spike of ice. She swears softly and fluently, and Sokka’s almost certain that he’s never used half those words around her. Yue stares at her, eyes wide and more than a little shocked, and Sokka pokes his sister in the arm gently.

“You’ll take someone’s eye out with that,” he reminds her, not needing to add that by _someone_ he means _himself_ , and she moves her hand away from maiming range. The spike of ice follows, and Sokka nervously pokes at it so that the pointy side faces away from him.

“That – I should have beat _him_ up too, what an absolute – Yue, how can you be engaged to this pile of trash?”

Yue looks impossibly entertained by their indignation on her behalf, if a little frustrated. “I wasn’t the one negotiating the betrothal,” she explains. “And I’m mostly okay with not marrying for love, but I draw the line at marrying jerks. Unfortunately, my dad still hasn’t come around to agreeing with me and nullifying the contract, since I only signed it a few weeks ago.”

Right, on her birthday.

“That’s awful,” Sokka says. “You’d be doing a lot better taking on some responsibilities for your dad to prepare you to become the Chief one day.”

She blushes. “Thanks, Sokka.”

Katara smiles at them both. “You should have seen Yue bend today – she was amazing! I mean, I almost sliced Pakku’s head off, but Yue was the one who convinced him _and_ Chief Arnook to recognise us as masters, since we both won our duels with proper bending forms and all that.”

After Pakku had confronted Yue and Katara about their combat bending, the secret had got out that most women secretly learned to fight anyway behind men’s backs, and while some of the elders had been angry enough to melt an entire wing of the palace, others had quickly shut their arguments down by telling them that they may need more warriors against the Fire Nation anyway, if their homes were invaded. The discussion about bending styles was clearly not one that could be declared over quite so soon, but fortunately for everyone, Sokka had sufficiently distracted the Chief and his council by getting into a fistfight with Hahn.

“Not much room for ‘proper bending’ in war when someone’s trying to reduce you to ashes,” Sokka points out. “But, _seriously_ , Gran-Gran was going to marry this guy? No wonder she ran away!”

“That is true,” Katara allows, mouth twitching up into a smile, “but that doesn’t matter right now. Our priority is to protect Aang from the Fire Nation until he can get to Tui and La, or one of the other spirits.”

“Fortunately, we’ve got that under control. Or do we need to call in a few guards?”

“No, we’re good,” Katara assures Sokka. “I think Yue and I can handle defending Aang just fine, and you can sneak in an attack if they get past us, or we’re outnumbered.”

“Sounds like you don’t need my help after all,” a familiar voice says from the edge of the Spirit Oasis. The three of them swivel around, but Yue is the only one who gets into a defensive stance at the sight of the newcomer.

“Zuko!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know I said that this fic wouldn't necessarily focus on the Gaang for a while but Sokka's technically also a swordsman of Shu Jing, and also I love Yue. I'm not sure who first came up with the idea of waterbender!Yue teaching Katara, but the credit goes to them for this absolutely amazing hc.
> 
> Not pictured: Aang driving Pakku up the wall by being his usual hyper self during lessons, and Katara duelling Pakku with all the rage within a 14yo. Yue's duel is less angry overall, and more traditional. Also, Sokka and Yue are close, but not romantically (mostly because I'm not the best at writing any kind of romantic relationship that hasn't been established for a while lol).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides in with a chapter almost twice as large as the previous one*
> 
>  **TW:** offscreen character death, implied character injury (burns, cracked ribs etc.). None of these descriptions are graphic, but it's better to keep the warnings up anyway.

“ _Spirits, are you okay_?”

Sokka leaps to his feet, and Yue slowly lowers her arms from the defensive stance she’d gotten into. Her friends clearly trust this stranger, Zuko, so she’ll trust them and their judgement. For now. To be fair, though, the question isn’t completely unwarranted for – Zuko looks kind of _awful_ , with scratches and bruises littering every visible part of skin that his clothes don’t cover. Yue is willing to bet that under them, his injuries are even worse.

“Fine,” he lies, and Katara sprints over to wrap him in a hug.

“I thought we’d be seeing you soon, are you staying with us to help Aang find an earthbending teacher? I’ve mastered waterbending and he’s mostly close, so we should be able to go to the Earth Kingdom next–”

“Ribs,” he wheezes, and Katara releases him instantly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t – are you hurt?”

“A little,” he admits, and Katara practically drags him over to the rock that Sokka had just been sitting on. Yue nudges her friend out of the way gently. Katara’s a good healer, but Yue has _years_ of experience on her.

“I’ll take care of it, you go make sure Aang’s okay.” She turns to Zuko, channelling her inner Yugoda as she glares sternly at him. “I don’t know who you are, but my friends clearly trust you, so I’m going to hope that they aren’t making a bad call here. You’re also clearly injured, so I’d appreciate if you listen to what I say when I heal you and not argue.”

“Um,” he says eloquently, looking more than a little startled, “I wasn’t going to?”

“Good. Now lift up your tunic, I want to get a look at your ribs.” She draws some water from the ice around them, and winces when she eyes the mottled bruises. She reaches out to feel for any breaks, and winces again. “Yep. Definitely fractured. Lucky for you, I’m a pretty good healer.”

“Yeah, lucky,” Zuko mutters, but it’s clearly not meant for her, so she lets it go.

For now.

He hisses when the icy water makes contact with his skin, but relaxes when the healing magic takes over and accelerates the process so that it’s over in minutes.

“Where else are you injured?”

“Uh, my face, a little, and there’s a burn that goes all the way to my shoulder.”

She frowns at the scar over the eye – it looks old, and he shakes his head.

“No, that one can’t be healed. It’s been years since I got it.”

Yue hums and pulls the water to his face, slowly and methodically healing the numerous bruises and cuts that go down to his collarbone. And just like he said, a burn stretched in fragments from his cheek down to the side of his neck, ending at his collarbone where the cloth of a tunic would normally brush the skin. She hopes that his clothes aren’t particularly abrasive – the irritation would make healing a lot harder.

“How long ago–”

“Yesterday, or maybe two days ago?” Zuko frowns. “I was unconscious for part of it, and I haven’t checked any calendars while stowing away on Zhao’s ship.”

“What, did you get in a fight with a blasting jelly barrel?”

“No, it was an assassin, actually. Took me by surprise, otherwise I might have bent their fire away.”

Yue pauses in her healing. “You’re a firebender?”

Zuko winces. “Yes? – I mean – yes. Is that a problem?”

“Not if you’re with Aang, Katara and Sokka,” she says decisively. “But if you’re with the Fire Nation army…”

“I am. With Aang, I mean, not the army.”

“Then we don’t have anything to worry about.”

She works on the burn in silence for a while, and sighs frustratedly when the final stages are ineffectual. “I don’t think I can heal your burns all the way through. They won’t be as bad as the one over your eye, but they’re going to leave marks – not scars, though, don’t worry – unless you want to check with Healer Yugoda…?”

Yue is a little uncertain about whether Yugoda would be able to do anything to the injury that would help, anyway – burns are always tricky to heal, what with the nerve damage and everything. Most healers, like herself, tend to focus on everything other than cosmetic damage first, then reversing that if it’s possible. Which doesn’t quite seem to be the case here, she things ruefully.

“No, I’m good,” he says, feeling around the discoloured skin and brightening a little when he doesn’t wince. “I’m just glad it doesn’t hurt – that wouldn’t have been good in battle if I froze.”

She looks back at the scar over his eye. It’s a lot worse, and more concentrated than the newer mark, which is much paler and evidently less severe. She’s certain that such a wound would have a traumatic story behind it, so she doesn’t push it. Zuko tugs his tunic back into place and stands, more fluidly than when he’d stumbled into the Spirit Oasis.

“Thank you…?”

“Yue,” she says. “Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe.”

Zuko’s eyebrow shoots up at that. He bows in traditional Fire Nation manner, shaping a ‘flame’ with his hands. “Thank you, Princess Yue,” he says, half-formally. “I, formerly Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, am indebted to you for healing me.”

Yue blinks, and Sokka, who’d just returned to their side, mutters something that sounds an awful lot like _‘prince of the drama nation, more like’_.

Zuko smiles beatifically, seemingly missing the point entirely. She can spot the sparkle of amusement in his eye, though, from years of practice of shaping her court mask whenever she attends meetings with her father. She’s a little glad to meet someone who has some shared experiences with her on that front, to be honest.

It would be rather nice to befriend a fellow royal, she thinks, and joins in when they all start laughing.

* * *

_“Nephew, you needn’t worry about being seen, no one is simply going to enter my chambers–”_

_“I know, Uncle, but what if Zhao catches me because I’m just out here? Anyone who walks in will be able to see me and figure out why I’m here.”_

_“You give them too much credit,” Iroh murmurs, helping Zuko lie back against the bed again. He just cleaned Zuko’s wounds a minute ago, but he can’t find the right dressings to bind them tightly._

_“Underestimating Zhao is the only reason I’m here,” Zuko protests. “But maybe that’s not totally a bad thing – I can warn Aang and the others about the invasion if I get there in time.”_

_“And how do you suppose you can out-sail the finest warships that the Fire Nation has to offer?”_

_Zuko winces. “I’ll figure something out.”_

_Iroh considers this. “I can try to find out what plans Zhao has,” he says. “You might not be able to warn them beforehand, but knowing one’s enemy’s strategy would help them fight back a little more efficiently. Besides, I get the feeling that Zhao is planning something else. Something bigger and a lot worse than the invasion.”_

_“This is bad enough,” Zuko replies, but his words are starting to slur together a little. He’s clearly exhausted himself again. Iroh wishes that his nephew wouldn’t push himself so, but in this instance he can’t entirely fault his caution._

_“Rest for a while, nephew,” he says, already moving for the door. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”_

_Fortunately, this ship has locks on the doors. Iroh makes sure that it’s secure – mostly, anyway (if Zuko decides that he wants to leave, melting down the hinges wouldn’t be too much of an issue for him) – before making way for the helm. Zhao greets him smugly, and he takes a moment to cull his temper before he punches the man in the face. Possibly with fire involved._

_“This will truly be one for the history books, General Iroh,” he says. “Just think, centuries from now, people will study the great Admiral Zhao who destroyed the last of the Water Tribe civilization. You're lucky you're here to see it.”_

_No matter that the Northern and Southern Water Tribes are independent of each other and have been for at least a century. Zhao simply doesn’t care._

_“Be careful what you wish for, Admiral. History is not always kind to its subjects.”_

_“I suppose you speak from experience? But rest assured, this will be nothing like your legendary failure at Ba Sing Se.”_

_“I hope not, for your sake.” The words taste bitter as he says them, but they’re needed to keep up the pretence. Ba Sing Se was a failure in that Iroh decided to attack it anyway, after all the other military manoeuvres he’d planned on other major Earth Kingdom towns. Calling the retreat was the successful part._

_“Tell the Captains to prepare for the first strike.”_

_Iroh bristles at the slight; disgraced or not in the Fire Lord’s eyes, he technically outranks Zhao even as a consultant for this endeavour._

_“I don't need to remind you we have a time limit,” he says sharply. The sun has almost set, and polar nights are vastly different from tropical ones. “If we don't defeat the Water Tribe before the full moon rises they will be undefeatable.”_

_“I assure you I have everything under control. I intend to remove the moon as a factor.”_

_“Remove the moon?” Iroh asks incredulously. Not only is that impossible, it’s… an unbelievably stupid plan. Even Zuko’s non-plans generally have better foresight than this._

_Zhao grins, and Iroh has to fight back a shiver. The reflected light from all the ice and metal around them casts the Admiral in an eerie light._

_“Years ago, I stumbled upon a great and powerful secret… the identity of the Moon Spirit’s form.”_

_“What?”_

_“I was a young Lieutenant serving under General Shu in the Earth Kingdom,” he recalls, “and I discovered a hidden library, underground in fact. I tore through scroll after scroll. One of them contained a detailed illustration and the words "moon" and "ocean." I knew then that these spirits could be found – and killed. And that it was my destiny to do so.”_

_Cover be damned, Iroh is not going to stand by while Zhao wreaks havoc on the world with his ignorance. “Zhao, the Great Spirits are not meant to be trifled with!”_

_“Yes, yes, I know you fear the Spirits, Iroh. I've heard rumors about your journey into the Spirit World. But the Ocean and Moon gave up their immortality to become a part of our world – and now they will face the consequences!”_

_Stunned to silence, Iroh stares out at the grand ice fortress that borders the Northern Water Tribe, and wonders what exactly created the monster standing next to him._

* * *

Aang returns to the human world with a gasp and scrambles to his feet. “We need – the spirits are in danger, they need help–”

“Breathe, buddy,” Sokka interrupts, alarmed. “You okay there?”

“I’m fine,” he manages, wheezing in air until his heart stops racing. “The Moon and Ocean Spirits, though…”

“You’re not wrong,” says – _huh?_

“Zuko? How are you here?”

“Zhao’s planning the invasion, he tried to assassinate me, I stowed away on his ship and came here to warn you guys about what he’s going to do with the Moon Spirit.”

Aang blinks. “He tried to kill you?!”

“Irrelevant,” Zuko brushes it away, and if it weren’t so urgent right now, Aang would disagree. “My Uncle got the plans from him – he wants to kill the Moon Spirit and cut off the waterbenders’ connection to their element.”

“ _What?”_ Sokka screeches. “He’s – he’s not serious, is he? Not only is that the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard, but it’s also going to kill a lot more people – and damage a lot more coastal plains – than are ideal. Aren’t most Fire Nation cities outside the mainland supposed to be along the coasts?”

“He’s like Bujing,” Zuko says bitterly, and for a moment, Aang wonders who that is. Sokka seems to know the name, though, and his expression darkens. “He doesn’t care about who gets hurt, as long as he gets to complete what he sets out to do.”

“Then we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t get to do it,” Yue says resolutely, summoning water around her already.

“But you’re already too late,” says a snide voice from behind them. They all whirl around, elements or weapons at the ready, and stand face-to-face with Zhao.

The man swiftly drops a sack over the white fish, and before any of them can actually move, pulls it back up with a knife held right next to it.

The moon goes red, and the water that Katara and Yue have ready splash onto the ground. Zuko’s stance doesn’t change, but he does move closer.

“Let go of the Moon Spirit, Zhao,” he growls.

“I’m surprised you didn’t die like I thought you would,” the man says flippantly. “Either the assassin I hired must have been truly incompetent, or you must have had a rare stroke of luck. Or misfortune, really. Now that I get to face you off, I can make your death as slow and painful as I like.”

Aang rarely feels a need to be violent, but listening to the way Zhao addresses Zuko sickens him to his core. The swordsman, however, stays unmoving.

“Destroying the moon won't just hurt the Water Tribe. It will hurt everyone – including you. Without the moon, everything would fall out of balance. You have no idea what kind of chaos that would unleash on the world,” Aang says desperately.

“He’s right, Zhao,” says another voice.

An older man steps out from behind an alcove, stance relaxed but no doubt ready to summon flame at the instant he’d need it.

“I should have known that you were conspiring with your treacherous nephew,” Zhao spits out, grip tightening on the sack.

“I’m no traitor, Zhao. The Fire Nation needs the moon too, we all depend on the balance,” Iroh says, right as Zuko shouts, “You tried to have me assassinated!”

“You’re the Blue Spirit, and an enemy of the Fire Nation,” he sneers at the younger firebender. “Of course I did, when you freed the Avatar.”

The knife’s point inches closer to the writhing fish still inside the sack. Aang’s heart aches for the Moon Spirit, but he doesn’t move an inch – he’s too noticeable and Zhao’s attention is split between him and General Iroh, anyway. He _does_ notice what Zhao misses, though – and what Zhao misses is Zuko silently taking down the soldiers who accompanied him into the Spirit Oasis. It would be scary if Aang hadn’t already seen him effortlessly slice down arrows in Pohuai. He remains silent, eyes tracking the struggling fish in the sack.

“Whatever you do to that spirit,” Iroh says lowly, and for the first time all evening, despite being a Fire Nation general, actually sounds dangerous. “I’ll unleash on you tenfold.”

Zhao doesn’t move.

“Let it go, _now!”_ he roars, and shocked by the force of his shout, Zhao’s grip slackens enough for Zuko to knock the fish back into the pond, swiftly using the momentary confusion to yank the man back by his top-knot, knife to his throat.

There’s a moment where everything stills – well, not _everything_ – Katara’s water flows back around her hands, and the polar winds beat at them erratically through the open gate. But everyone in the Spirit Oasis stands still, unmoving, for just a moment. Like the eye of a hurricane.

And then it completely falls apart.

Zhao kicks at Zuko’s leg, shoves him aside, and blasts a bolt of fire at the fish.

* * *

_“Tui, this cannot be the fate you have set for my daughter,” Arnook whispers, clutching the fur-wrapped infant to his heart._

_Yue, named for the Great Spirit herself, is awfully silent and still – an illness had spread through the younger children recently and while it mostly left them unharmed, a few had succumbed to it. Arnook prays that his daughter won’t be joining them anytime soon, as selfish as it may sound. Normally, at this time, Yue would be babbling away and incredibly unlikely to go to sleep – something which had caused much grief when Arnook had to schedule meetings in the morning with next to no rest. Now, though, she’s too pale and too quiet and he does_ not _know what he’ll do if the sickness takes her too._

_He does the only thing he can and goes directly to Tui. The will of spirits – especially the Great Spirits – is unpredictable at best, but Arnook hopes that the moon listens to his pleas._

_“If you’re listening,” he murmurs as he lowers his daughter’s form into the Spirit Oasis, “Please help her.”_

_Arnook waits for a few moments, not daring to open his eyes, but a light shining beyond his eyelids prompts him to look – a glow has surrounded his daughter, and a healthy colour replaces the sickly pallor of her skin while the dark brown hair fades into stark white._

_It’s the only outward sign that he gets, but it’s enough._

_“Thank you,” he whispers, snatching up his child as she starts to cry. “_ Thank you _.”_

* * *

The world goes dark, and Yue falls to her knees, the sensation of the Moon Spirit’s – _death?_ no, spirits can’t _die_ – reverberating around her skull not unlike a gong. Zhao can’t _actually_ have –

Iroh shoots a stream of flame towards the offending man and Zhao dodges the fire, backing away and disappearing from her line of sight. The general goes to follow, but Zuko sprints after Zhao, leaving him on the edge of a decision – to go after his nephew, or to help the Moon Spirit. Iroh chooses the latter, and Yue makes her way to his side as the man gently scoops the limp koi from the pond.

“There’s – there’s no hope now, is there?” Katara asks in a small voice. “What’s going to happen if the moon is gone?”

Iroh meets her gaze, and she sees the same glint of untold knowledge that she feels within herself.

“The moon’s not gone. Not completely,” Yue announces. “But her spirit is weak, and without our help, she _will_ fade.”

“You’ve been touched by the Moon Spirit,” Iroh murmurs. “Would you be able to…”

“Yeah. I think.” To the others, she explains, “I was severely ill as a child. My father pleaded with the spirits to save me, and the Moon Spirit… helped. Perhaps if I could heal her through that connection…”

“I can try to keep her energy bound to her for a little longer,” Aang says, and he wades into the pond, already slipping into a meditative trance. A moment later, his arrows glow, and Yue pulls water from the pond and reaches out to the burned fish in Iroh’s hands.

It takes all of her concentration to heal the Moon Spirit, and by the time she’s done, she feels drained and so _tired_ , and barely feels Sokka catching her as she lists to the side, and _falls_.

“ _No!_ ”

The Moon Spirit glows and flops around a bit before Iroh snaps to attention and returns her to the pond, but Sokka only has eyes for the limp waterbender in his arms. Katara drops to her knees and seizes her wrist, pushing up the gloves and layers of clothes before pressing two fingers to the inside of her forearm.

“She’s not – she’s not _gone_ ,” he says a little desperately. “’Tara, is she–?”

“A moment,” she snaps, and Sokka falls silent. Every second is an eternity, and several of those later, Katara drops Yue’s wrist and sighs. “She’s alive. Her pulse is a little slow, and she feels cold – a little more than usual, but she should be fine.”

Sokka pulls off his glove using his teeth, and gently grips Yue’s bare wrist. He can’t help the hysterical laughter that spills out of him; at least he’d succeeded in doing one thing by protecting her, even though he hadn’t had to do much at all.

Katara returns the smile, and it’s more than a little shaky.

“I guess you should take her to a healer,” he encourages her. “I’ll have to talk to Chief Arnook about what happened here, and he’ll also want to talk to the Avatar. I’ll send Aang after you once he’s back.”

Katara frowns but doesn’t argue, carefully lifting the unconscious princess in her arms and heading for Yugoda’s hut. When footsteps echo across the space, Sokka lifts his head to find Zuko there, not bothering to hide his tread. He looks far more subdued than the rest of them, and after a moment, it hits him why.

“What happened?” he asks anyway. Zuko looks up at him, then to his uncle, then at Aang, and sighs.

“The Ocean Spirit ended the invasion. I could see the waves, and everything was glowing, but I’m not sure what happened to the Navy. Zhao… got what he was asking for, though. The spirits have taken their payment for the wrongs that were done to them.”

Sokka’s not particularly spiritual himself, and neither does Zuko seem to be, but even he can respect the will of the Great Spirits of the elements.

“I think I remember it,” Aang says quietly, eyes blinking open slowly and looking around at the carnage. Zuko squeezes his shoulder in a comforting gesture that’s almost out of place with all the bodies of Fire Nation soldiers lying around them. It’s not odd when he remembers that Zuko has a younger sister too, and he accepts the brotherly gesture for what it is.

“Is Princess Yue alright?” Zuko asks, and Sokka nods. “And Katara – where are they?”

“The princess offered to heal the Moon Spirit and overtaxed herself a little, but Katara made sure she was fine before escorting her to the healers,” Iroh answers, sweeping a gaze across Zuko’s even _more_ burned face. Sokka jumps, he almost forgot that the man’s still there. “I must ask you the same question, nephew.”

Zuko sighs. “My leg hurts a bit where Zhao kicked it, but that’ll be fine soon. Yue healed me when I reached here.”

“Aang, go find Chief Arnook and let him know about all of this,” Sokka orders. He has a few questions that he doesn’t want the kid to hear the answers to, and they really do need to make sure that the Chief knows what’s going on. Once he’s certain that Aang is out of earshot, he turns to glare pointedly at Zuko.

“What _actually_ got you here, injured like that?”

Zuko shrugs. “I was sending off a letter to my dad and trying to figure out where to go next. I guess it was around that time that I saw this ball of fire coming right at me, and when I blocked it, it _exploded_. I was on a pier, and I think I was thrown off it into the water.”

“Tui and La,” Sokka mutters under his breath. “An actual assassin? Not blasting jelly, or–”

“It was like firebending,” Zuko asserts. “Just… not a form I’ve heard of. And I’m not sure whether the assassin knows I’m still alive.”

“I’ve heard tales of benders who can create explosive forms of bending,” Iroh muses. “But they were only rumoured to exist. No one has tried to record the forms they use because they’ve historically only had a destructive use.”

“Demolition sites,” Sokka reasons, and Iroh concedes this point with a nod.

“Possible. However, the vast majority of what I’ve heard of these benders tend to be horror stories.”

“Just my luck, then,” Zuko says sarcastically. “Is there a way to stop them?”

Iroh shrugs. “They use firebending forms like the rest of us do, just channel their inner flame differently. I suppose chi-blocking could work, but then again, it entirely depends on how their bodies would react to the ability.”

The three of them ponder this for a while, when they’re interrupted by an enthusiastic Katara who loudly proclaims that Yue is awake and talking. The conversation shifts to their next plans, and Zuko, after going over the safest options and deciding that the Earth Kingdom would be their best bet, says, “I’ll try to find a way back with Uncle.”

“You can’t leave now,” Katara cries, exasperated. “We’ll vouch for you, and we can take you where you need to go on Appa.”

“I mean, I could definitely get a ship somehow,” Zuko mutters. “Uncle?”

“I see no problems with us staying for a while,” Iroh says lightly. “I’ve been meaning to get a game of Pai Sho for a while, and I could certainly do with a cup of tea.”

Sokka stares at the old man – _General, Uncle_ – as he pulls out a Pai Sho tile from his sleeve. The White Lotus tile, he recognises from the engraving. Hadn’t Jeong Jeong worn something like that across his tunic? And didn’t Zuko’s belt have an ornament embossed with that design?

There had been a saying around the South Pole, back when the raids hadn’t happened so often and the villages hadn’t consolidated into a handful of settlements carefully hidden from the Fire Nation, back when their land had been thriving with people, that Dad used to repeat from Gran-Gran – _all old people know each other_. It used to stand in for when people used to carry gossip from one village to another, and when all the elders would meet their friends or exchange messages with them from other villages than their own, but Sokka hadn’t really thought about it before considering Gran-Gran had been the only elder in their village for most of his life.

He wonders if there’s a little more truth to that statement, and files away the hunch for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I very nearly wrote a far more graphic version of the Moon Spirit's scene but pulled back in the last minute because of the massive plot hole it would have made, and then I realised that I still had another plot hole in this version and had to add another thousand words to fix it.
> 
> Iroh doesn't really get to talk about his redemption arc as such for all of the imperialism of his past, and while I'm obviously not going to justify that, I do think it needs to be explored a little more. That being said, Zhao is an idiot, and I'm with literally everyone else about the stupidity of killing the freaking moon.
> 
> Some unnecessary worldbuilding that isn't particularly relevant in this chapter:  
> Iroh being the Grand Lotus is something that doesn't chronologically make sense unless it's a relatively new organisation in the world, but this wouldn't be possible considering there are people from the White Lotus from literally everywhere, and such a scale of cooperation would have needed quite a long time. Thus, the sequence of events that led to his position are as follows (from my headcanons) - the previous Grand Lotus has to step down/dies after a risky mission and this happens around the time Iroh is fully immersing himself in White Lotus business, so when everyone realises that he has enough Royal Family intel to carry them through the war, they hand him the title so that he can access all those channels that are restricted to the higher ranks for easy communication.  
> Others like Bumi, Piandao, Jeong Jeong and Yugoda (who, yes, is part of the WL) have seniority in the organisation.
> 
> With this being the end of the season 1 arc, I'd like to thank you all for being such great readers, for all of the kudos and comments you've left on this fic! I love hearing everyone's thoughts and really appreciate the feedback! <3
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides in with a filler chapter and a heck-ton of worldbuilding, slides out again*
> 
> I hope y'all are having lovely holidays or taking some time for yourselves! To those of you who celebrate Christmas, this is an advanced 'Merry Christmas' to you!

A few days later, they’re off for the Earth Kingdom. Yue had managed to arrange for a truly impressive amount of supplies for them all, and secured the goodwill of the Northern Water Tribe leaders towards the two firebenders alive and within their walls, which Iroh is still incredibly grateful for. Zuko had been pulled away by Yue to the healing huts to take care of any other lingering injuries that the princess had missed the first time she’d healed him, and clearly that had also included a _conversation_ that the teenager meant to have with him later, possibly in a private space. It’s at this point that Iroh’s a little glad he’d never set off on the family tradition of trying to hunt down the Avatar – unlike Ozai and Azulon, he at least still knows just how fast the small group can be.

Reading those reports had been confusing, but in retrospect, knowing that such sabotage to the Fire Army had been done by a twelve-year-old – a powerful one, but still a child – made it more than a little hilarious. When he’d mentioned it to Zuko in their native tongue, he’d snorted and replied that he’d felt the same breaking out of Pohuai Stronghold.

“Ash and flame,” the boy mutters, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “I didn’t mean to say that. Forget you heard it.”

“It sounds like quite an adventure,” Iroh teases, and Zuko groans. “Never mind that I already knew it was you, from your dual blades.”

“ _What_.”

“Not many people wield dual dao in the Fire Nation, nephew,” he adds sagely. “It is more popular in the Earth Kingdom, and that was initially what I assumed when I read the reports about the nefarious Blue Spirit, before I remembered that _Love Amongst the Dragons_ is a traditional Fire Nation play and currently under the banned list.”

“It made it to the banned scrolls list?” Zuko asks, surprised, and smirks. “Did the Fire Lord not like how the citizens rose up against the former lord of the land and crowned Noren as the Dragon Emperor, since he actually cared about them rather than treating the throne as an excuse to grab power?”

Iroh blinks. “Exactly how many times have you read the play?”

“It’s an important part of our culture, no matter how hard the Fire Lord would like to pretend that it doesn’t exist,” Zuko replies, slipping into something like annoyance or disdain. Across from them on Appa’s saddle, the rest of his friends look flummoxed at the discussion, though the older boy, Sokka, seems to have accepted theater rants as a part of knowing Zuko and moved on.

“It is a shame that he only allows for propaganda plays to be shown in theaters,” Iroh agrees solemnly.

“Wait, they don’t show the other plays anymore?” Aang interrupts, looking stricken. “Kuzon used to drag me to them all the time, to the streetside shows.”

“There were _streetside shows_?” Zuko cries, anguished. Iroh briefly consoles him with a pat on the shoulder before turning back to the young Avatar.

“Fire Lord Azulon was laxer with the arts, but even he made sure that the Fire Nation only learned about the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes in negative and terribly stereotypical ways. I might have followed in the same line, once,” he adds guiltily. “But after I ended the siege of Ba Sing Se–”

“That was _you_?” Sokka asks incredulously. “It’s just – no offence, we’ve all seen you fight so I wasn’t questioning that – how does one go from being the Fire Nation’s foremost general to planning to overthrow the Fire Lord?”

“Sokka, don’t,” Zuko says quietly, and for once his expressive face is hard to read. For all that Iroh could tell, he might as well be looking at a brick wall.

“It’s alright, Zuko, they deserve to know. I haven’t quite earned their trust the way you did,” he points out, and Zuko frowns at him, reverting to the capital dialect of their tongue.

“ _You’ve never spoken about it before, not even to Dad._ ”

“ _I suppose it’s time I did, then_ ,” Iroh replies, and Zuko scowls but sits back.

Iroh takes a deep breath, and launches into the story.

* * *

_“I still need to deliver a few messages,” Zuko tells Jeong Jeong, a few days after they’ve been forced to relocate the survivors of the 41 st Division from the forest where Zhao had attacked them. “I think I’ll be safer in the Earth Kingdom mainlands, but it wouldn’t be great for everyone here.”_

_“There’s a safe house a few villages away. Well, I say_ house _, it’s an old, abandoned village. Apparently it lay along a river once, but the river dried out and they lost their main source of water.”_

 _“Sounds good,” Zuko says distractedly. “I have your letter, I’ll send it off to Dad and make sure he knows that both of us may not be able to write for a while,_ again _.”_

_Jeong Jeong winces. Yes, he truly hadn’t been able to write while he’d found a safe place for the 41 st’s survivors, but he could have tried it through the Order of the White Lotus if he’d really set his mind to it. Still, he hopes that Piandao’s reaction won’t be so severe as Zuko’s._

_“– better take care of yourself too,” Zuko says knowingly, and Jeong Jeong is suddenly aware that he’s just caught the tail end of whatever Zuko had just finished talking about. He nods like he’d been listening the entire time._

_“I’ll be sure of it,” he says. “You should be careful now that Zhao has seen your face,” he adds unnecessarily. He knows that the boy would be cautious from here, but he still feels the need to make it clear. To his credit, Zuko takes the concern with minimal eye-rolling._

_“I know, Jeong Jeong. I’m only going to the harbour towns to deliver the messages to Dad, then I’m heading for the interior Earth Kingdom.”_

_It’s a solid plan, as far as Zuko is concerned. Jeong Jeong isn’t going to push his luck, or the kid’s, so he gruffly manages a farewell before ducking into a stretch of forest he still has to pass to reach the safe house._

_He’ll make sure to get in contact with Piandao again, somehow, even though this is the most isolated White Lotus safehouse he’s seen. (There are rumours of a place near the Si Wong Desert, but no sane person decides to go towards a desert, so he’s not sure how true that is.) Once it’s clear that the survivors of his old division are safe, he’ll find a way to do it, no matter how hard it may be._

_This he swears to the spirits; he’s_ not _abandoning his family again._

* * *

“Around eight years ago,” he tells Aang, “The Fire Nation launched its grandest siege in the history of the war. Ba Sing Se has, historically, been one of the strongest city-states in the world, and continues to remain uninvaded till date. I was asked by Fire Lord Azulon to lead the attack, as a matter of status and experience, and at the time I was still blind to the truth about the war. The siege lasted two years,” at this, Zuko abruptly looks away, face twisting into a grimace, and Iroh finds that he needs to take a moment before continuing.

“The siege lasted two years,” he repeats, “and it was only after the death of my son that I called it off.”

Katara makes a small noise – of shock, realization – he doesn’t know which, and he doesn’t want to think about it.

“I called off the invasion in my grief, and after ensuring that the armies retreated safely, journeyed into the Spirit World to try to find my son there. I found an airbender monk instead, who helped me look for him even though he must have known that Lu Ten wasn’t there. He talked, I listened, and over the time I spent there, I learned exactly why the war was so wrong. I understand that it shouldn’t have taken a personal loss for me to realise the truth, but it has already happened and I cannot change the past.”

Zuko sucks in a breath, going completely still beside him. From the way he’s turned to the ocean, Iroh doubts anyone can see his face – no doubt exactly what his nephew wished to do, so he leaves him be for the moment.

“I am aware that my crimes are far too many to make up for, but I’ve been trying to do so since I returned to the Fire Nation.”

“Is that when you told Zuko about why the war was wrong?” Katara asks softly.

Zuko doesn’t move, so Iroh responds on his behalf. “By the time I reached the palace, he’d already left. I didn’t find out where he was until a few weeks later, when my niece told me what happened.”

“That’s an awful thing to do,” Sokka mumbles absently. “The Fire Lord, I mean. I don’t know much about your niece, so I can’t say much about her.”

Iroh looks curiously at Zuko. “You told them about it?”

Zuko looks up, and while his face is still as blank as it had been before, his eyes are red-rimmed and his voice is carefully guarded when he replies, “I told Sokka. I’m not sure if you got the time to tell the others, but it doesn’t sound like it.”

“Not really,” Sokka admits. “And I meant what I said earlier, about you not having to say anything, but if you’d rather tell them yourself…”

“It’s probably better if you do it,” Zuko says decisively. Sokka nods firmly. “I actually learned that the war was wrong from my dads. They sat me down and let me speak my mind, and eventually I realised that the Fire Nation was getting poisoned by the war and that it had to stop.”

Iroh’s mind screeches to a halt when Zuko says _my dads_ , because he’s never really called Jeong Jeong that before. _He probably doesn’t even realise it_.

The others frown a little but ultimately don’t question Zuko’s timeline. “I thought you found out about the Earth Kingdom and Southern Water Tribe, since you seemed to know about those,” Katara admits.

Zuko shrugs. “I’ll admit, I still have a lot to learn about how the war affects the rest of the world – the Fire Nation was pretty careful to push narratives about the happy, wealthy upper class, and even though Shu Jing isn’t particularly the richest locality, they’re pretty well off themselves.”

“Your father also earned a great amount of prestige for his skills,” Iroh comments, and Zuko nods. “Regardless, Zuko learned the lesson far sooner than I had, when he hadn’t really wronged anyone in the world.”

Zuko’s frown only deepens, and Iroh thinks it’s time for another _conversation_ later. But he’d been meaning to ask what the boy had spoken with Yue about, so he encourages the change in topic by doing just that. Thankfully, none of the other children try to redirect the conversation, eagerly waiting for a response instead.

“Well, she invited me to a game of Pai Sho then brought out a lotus tile,” Zuko starts, and Iroh’s brows shoot up into his hairline.

“Isn’t she only sixteen?”

“Uncle, I was close to fifteen when Dad helped me join,” Zuko says, exasperated. “She’s only training in the basics, mostly because she’d need that knowledge when she becomes the future Chief’s wife – though I guess that part’s changing. Anyway, she’d need a network of people who’d be able to supply her with information about what’s going on outside her nation, and it looks like the White Lotus is the only group willing to do so.”

“Wait, she mentioned something about the Order of the White Lotus when she talked about learning waterbending. She said that she wasn’t allowed to go on missions because of the safety issues – mostly, they only received messages… she didn’t really go into much detail,” Katara says. “Hold on, is Jeong Jeong also part of the White Lotus?”

Zuko nods, but Iroh has to cut in; “Pakku must have done an excellent job teaching the princess, if she’s already a Master and able to teach you.”

Instantly, everything erupts into chaos.

* * *

_Elsewhere, in Shu Jing, a messenger hawk taps at the windowsill of a swordsman’s home_.

_It’s only been a few weeks since Zuko had left on a string of delivery missions, and Piandao knows not to expect much communication from him while he’s on them, lest he disturb his cover. Zuko knows not to expect replies, and all of the letters he sends back (which are exactly two) are short, quick updates of where he is, and a coded report of rumours he’s heard if they’re relevant to the White Lotus’ greater mission; to assist the Avatar and end the war. So, considering the last message had only been sent a few days ago, he hadn’t expected a hawk to be tapping its beak against the windowsill to get his attention._

_“Who are you from, then?” he asks, distracting it with a piece of meat while deftly releasing the scroll from its capsule with his other hand. The bird doesn’t respond, but once it’s done eating the meat, flies away – back to the sender, presumably. It might have been a regulation bird, so it would be flying back to one of the ports. He thinks._

_The seal is clearly Zuko’s, so Piandao has no issues breaking it and reading the message. Another sheet slips out from the scroll and Piandao snatches it out of the air. It’s thick and pulpier than the material of the scroll, definitely not suitable for an inked letter. It’s definitely a rushed message, or possible from someone in an isolated region where they might have had to make their own paper. Out of instinct, he reads Zuko’s letter first. It’s quite short, and more than a little concerning with the way the words look shaky, but understandable in context._

Dad –

Zhao found me with the Avatar, he saw my face. Unclear whether he reported to the Fire Lord, I’ll be in the Earth Kingdom for a while until it’s safe enough to return. Found Jeong Jeong in a forest while delivering message from White Lotus and he sent you a letter. I’ll try to keep in touch.

– Zuko

_What?_

_Piandao reads the other letter once, then twice. He’s lucky he isn’t a firebender, otherwise he might have reduced his partner’s message to ashes by now. Spirits, after three years of silence, he finally hears back through a message from Zuko, made possible through a chance meeting._

_And when had Zuko met the Avatar? For Zhao to have seen his face, the encounter must have been serious – he_ had _heard the news about the Blue Spirit, but none followed about the Prince’s desertion (yes, for all that Fire Lord Ozai claimed to have disowned his son, he had forgotten to take the boy’s name off the line of succession, a decision that would return to bite him in the backside sooner or later), so did that mean Zhao hadn’t reported it to anyone yet?_

 _Piandao wouldn’t put it past the man to try to bring Zuko to ‘justice’ and take all the credit for himself, and since it’s a highly likely possibility, he decides to keep his hopes up for now. He tries not to take notice of the sinking feeling in his heart at the memory of another one of his family in hiding, but there’s very little he can do about the rage he feels building at everything that carved a wedge into their lives. He_ does _understand why Jeong Jeong had to leave, and why Zuko has to lay low now. He gets why he didn’t receive any letters from his partner, even though the realization that he_ could have _sits bitterly in his stomach. He knows that it’s not their fault, not really, that there is exactly one person to blame about this._

_So he goes down to the training field, prepares a dummy to practice against, and takes great satisfaction in pretending to hack down the Fire Lord into pieces._

* * *

“That raging sexist is a part of your secret rebellion group?!”

“First he’s engaged to Gran-Gran, now he’s part of the White Lotus?”

“Healer Yugoda taught Yue to waterbend,” Zuko says, wincing a little at his friends’ volumes and shaking his head the way he does to clear the ringing from his ears. Iroh feels a little guilty for sparking the outbursts, but he’s still curious.

“That’s what she told me too,” Katara agrees emphatically. “Pakku wouldn’t teach her. I tried asking him, and he refused!”

Iroh frowns. “I thought he taught Aang?”

“He did,” the boy chirps, sounding miffed for the first time since Iroh has joined the group. “He just wouldn’t _also_ teach Katara, so she and Yue challenged him to a duel each when he caught them practicing their forms.”

Zuko frowns. “What’s that about a duel?”

Katara goes on to explain how some waterbenders who may not have received the most formal training could go on to challenge recognized masters in order to assert their own status, and that she and Yue had proved to be more than great benders. “She’s probably heading the discussions about relaxing those rules, because it’s a little stupid that men can’t learn healing as well.”

“That is stupid,” Zuko agrees bluntly. “Wait – does that mean Aang can’t heal yet, if men aren’t supposed to heal?”

“That’s what Yue and I talked about,” Sokka interjects eagerly. “Field medicine may save someone’s life, but having a healer on your side _while fighting_? That’s loads better.”

Katara pauses, and she and Aang exchange a startled look. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” she admits. “Spirits, I’ll have to teach you that too aside from the final sets of forms.”

“Awesome,” he grins. “It’ll be useful if any of us gets hurt, we shouldn’t have to expect you to heal everyone all the time.”

Katara blushes a little, and Sokka rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. Iroh chuckles softly at their antics, but they also remind him that these children are really planning on joining the front lines of a war far bigger than any of them should have to face. Sokka leans over the edge of the saddle and squints past Appa into the distance.

“I think we’ll reach the Earth Kingdom in a few hours,” he announces, “I’ll be clearer about it once the stars are out – but we should probably drop you guys off at a harbour town before we talk to General Fong. We know that you’re with us, but Fong might not see it that way.”

“It would be for the best,” Iroh agrees. “Zuko, are you certain you don’t want me to deliver your message for you?”

“I’ll do it, it’ll be easier to secure documents for us if we’re together anyway. Gaoling is near the interior parts of the Earth Kingdom, so we should be out of Fire Nation hands there.”

“So we’ll try to meet up at Gaoling?” Aang suggests. “In… how long d’you think it would take?”

“Two weeks, I guess? It won’t take long to deliver a message, but I could stretch that to three weeks if I try looking for an earthbending teacher for you. Uncle can find the nearest safe house and decide what he wants to do after that.”

“You still haven’t passed your mastery tests, Zuko,” Iroh reminds him. “I am yet to teach you those forms, so I believe I will be accompanying you and your friends for a while.”

“What happened to that tea shop you were always going on about?” Zuko teases, and Iroh laughs. “Seriously, though, if we’re sure that there wouldn’t be any problems after finding Aang’s earthbending master, we could go back to Shu Jing and train in Dad’s estate.”

“Somehow, I doubt your father would enjoy getting the garden tramped on by earthbending,” Iroh comments wryly. “But that isn’t entirely a bad idea, unless Zhao sent a delayed report to the Fire Lord about your desertion.”

“I warned him about that,” Zuko says sadly. “I didn’t want him to think I abandoned him too. He knows that if he doesn’t hear from me soon, I’ll be on the run.”

“It must be hard, being away from your family like that,” Katara says sympathetically.

“It’s not that,” Zuko counters with a shake of his head. “I’ve been travelling without him before, but I usually have the guarantee of returning home. I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I get to see him again, or even _write_ to him. I’ll have to make sure that the messenger systems are secure, that no one’s monitoring the hawks…”

Sokka reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. “I’m guessing you’re also worried about making him a target?”

Zuko nods. Iroh lays a hand on his other shoulder comfortingly, gratified when his nephew leans into the touch. “Your father will be fine,” he assures him. “He’s been through much, like you, and you both have the same resilience. If anything, this will only make him more determined to help end the war, to see you again.”

“I _know_ ,” he groans. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. What if the Fire Lord finds out I’ve deserted and checks Dad’s old record? He only handed me off to him because of his _dishonour_.”

“That won’t happen,” Iroh says with conviction. “I know Ozai, and he’s never been one for long-term planning.”

Zuko snorts at this. It comes off exactly as derisive as he means it to be, Iroh’s certain. Ever since Ozai had burned him, Zuko had shown nothing but disdain towards the man – as is his right, of course. Iroh himself had mentally disowned him as his brother when he’d realised exactly what the man did to his children.

“I’d still rather not risk it until I’m certain,” Zuko asserts. “So, everyone okay with meeting up in Gaoling in two weeks?”

And so it’s settled, with unanimous nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me raising several untouched subjects in canon and instantly poking those sleeping dragons for worldbuilding purposes (conversations on Appa-back are always fun to write)
> 
> If you'd like to know more about how I'm approaching the linguistic worldbuilding in this fic, I've made a post [here](https://silveryinkystar.tumblr.com/post/638411032334827520/so-ive-been-thinking-about-linguistic) that goes into full detail about it! Quick note that I'm not mentioning any language in particular, rather this is just a basis of how to approach the use of different languages in this world.  
> Feel free to add on if you have any thoughts, I really appreciate feedback and extra context to lean into so that I can improve my writing!
> 
> Also, I do love Iroh in canon but... he did try to conquer the Earth Kingdom, that sort of thing cannot go unaddressed for too long
> 
> I'm not super sure about where I'm going with this next arc, to be honest - season 2 hinges a lot on Zuko's redemption arc and that really isn't going to be necessary with this fic, so I'm going to be making a few big changes to the storyline - the 'canon divergence' tag will become incredibly relevant hereon, and that's all I'm absolutely certain about. But it's interesting working on a story like this, and I'm not going to abandon this story at any point of writing, so even if my updates slow down like they have in the last month, they won't stop until the story itself is over!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still a few hours away from midnight in my timezone, but (advanced) Happy New Year to anyone reading this on Jan 1, 2021!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this chapter!

“Uncle, you’re taking too long,” Zuko complains. “I thought I asked you to pack light?”

“Nephew, it’s _one_ tea set,” Iroh protests, but Zuko glares right back at him, unrelenting.

“We’ve talked about this, you promised you’d only bring the small travel-sized one!”

“Okay, okay,” Iroh consoles, noticing Zuko’s true distress. “I’m almost done, anyway – you should go and let your new friend know we’re leaving.”

“She’s not – Uncle, it’s barely been three days,” Zuko splutters, but stomps off to do as he asks. Iroh chuckles and neatly stacks all the small cups into his pack, wrapping them in his thick outer cloak lest they get damaged on the road. _Teenagers_ , he thinks, tying off his bedroll to the top of the pack and joining his nephew outside.

“I wish we had better shoes, if we’re going to be intending to walk,” he comments, and Zuko looks startled enough that Iroh wonders whether he’d noticed him coming.

“Uncle, we’re not walking,” he says, recovering quickly. “We’re getting an ostrich horse for the next length of the journey. We’ll have to return them at the next checkpoint, though.”

“ _Ah_.”

Zuko snorts, not unlike the animal he’d just named. With impeccable timing, an ostrich-horse trots up to him, and Zuko automatically reaches out to pet its beak.

“It is as I said,” the person leading the handsome creature says, “she can only take you till the checkpoint. You may have to speak to the Order’s rest stop there if you must, or find another method of transportation. In the meantime, your passports.”

Iroh takes the two documents and hands off his pack to Zuko, who fastens them to the saddle-hooks on the ostrich-horse deftly. Where their names would appear, Iroh finds their aliases – Katsuro and Ren – neatly printed onto the stiff material. Zuko gets his turn to read them once they’re halfway down the road, and snorts when he catches Iroh’s false name.

“You’re not even _trying_ to be subtle, Uncle,” he snorts, and Iroh chuckles. “Did you pick the name?”

“Somehow, no – I was thinking _Tamotsu_ would be more apt, but I suppose it’s supposed to allude to my rank as Grand Master of the Order.”

“I know, Uncle,” Zuko says lightly, gently nudging the horse forward. The ensuing silence is less comfortable and more tense, somehow, and Iroh decides that ostrich-horseback is a perfectly reasonable place to ask his nephew to confide in him.

“I know I’ve refrained from speaking about much of our past out of my own grief,” he starts slowly, “but I hope you know that you can come to me about anything you need to say.”

“What’s this about, Uncle?”

“You’ve been… agitated, since we left for the North. Is it because of Zhao’s attack?”

“In the Spirit Oasis? No, not really – I mean, I’m still a little freaked out about him killing the Moon Spirit, but what I did was an accident.” He hesitates, fists momentarily tightening their grip on the reins before slackening again. “It’s just… that assassin. He, um. Burnt my face. I know that it wasn’t deliberate, but it’s still making me a little antsy.”

Iroh frowns. “Do you think it’s because of having fire so close to your face?”

“ _No_ , but that burning feeling… definitely sent me back a little. I don’t want to think about it,” he adds, and Iroh sighs, knowing that this would be the most he’d get from his nephew for a while.

But then, Zuko was always full of surprises, so when he starts talking again, once they’ve made camp by some isolated patch of forest, Iroh’s not sure why he finds it startling that he actually volunteered information of his own.

“You never really talk about Lu Ten,” he begins abruptly, and Iroh’s hand stills over the earthen teapot momentarily. “I know _why_ , but – you know that you’re not alone, yeah? I know that the Fire Lord and Azula are not the best people to be with when you’re grieving, but they’re not the only people who knew Lu Ten.”

Iroh stares at his nephew, unable to form any semblance of words even as Zuko rambles on.

“It took me a long time to open up to Dad about Mom, I get it, but when you do talk about him, it’s always about losing him in Ba Sing Se. You don’t talk about anything else that he used to do – I’ve found that that helps.”

“Nephew, I–”

“And I know that everyone grieves differently, so I’m not saying that you _have_ to,” Zuko adds, a little frantic. “It’s just a suggestion.”

They remain silent for a long time, well after the tea has steeped and both their cups are empty.

“He used to try to climb up all the trees and steal the fruit for you,” Iroh says suddenly, as they both unroll their sleeping bags. “He’d always get in trouble with the gardeners.”

A beat, and Iroh wonders whether he should have brought it up at all. Then: “He’d always let me bring him turtleducks from the pond when he was sick. Mom would _always_ catch me, but she didn’t mind since it made him happy.”

Iroh chuckles. “Did I tell you about the time he nearly set Ozai’s chambers on fire the first time he bent?”

Zuko barks out a laugh, surprised. “No. No, you have not – why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”

The two of them share storied about Lu Ten until the campfire dims, and Iroh only stops once it’s clear that Zuko has fallen asleep. As he goes to follow, it’s with a light heart and a gratefulness that his nephew’s advice had indeed worked far too well.

* * *

_“Why ‘Piandao’?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“You’re a swordsman,” Jeong Jeong points out. “A little on the nose, don’t you think?”_

_“There are at least five non-benders in this place called ‘Jian’,” Piandao says instead of responding. “Go harass one of them.”_

_“I don’t_ like _‘one of them’, I like_ you _,” he points out. Piandao isn’t sure whether he wants to punch him in the shoulder or kiss him for it, so he does both._

_“You still haven’t answered my question,” Jeong Jeong says, sounding a little dazed. Piandao inwardly smirks; it’s good to know that he still has the same effect on his partner that the man has on him. “You don’t have to, of course, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”_

_“Has anyone told you,” he says, amused, “that you have terrible social presence?”_

_“Yes. You.”_

_“Hm. For the record, I don’t mind talking about it, I was just… surprised. Not many people know that it’s my chosen name. I should have known you did some homework before signing up here.”_

_“That implies that I decided to join this regiment because I was scanning through everyone’s papers and saw a devastatingly handsome face on the identification painting,” he says, and Piandao stares at him. Jeong Jeong seems to realise what he just said, and a blush starts to creep up his neck._

_He’s so gone for this man._

_“This is the first I’ve ever heard of it,” he says, fully smirking now. “Did you really–”_

_“Shut up.”_

_Piandao laughs. Jeong Jeong elbows him in the side, but he joins in and they snicker for a good few minutes before they get themselves under control again._

_“As you said, it’s a little on the nose,” Piandao says suddenly._

_“Hm?”_

_“My name. I wanted it to be.”_

_“You liked swords so much that you named yourself after them?”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“Why do I feel like there’s more to the story?”_

_Piandao sighs. “That’s because there is. I lived in an underfunded orphanage for most of my life before joining the army,” he explains, and his partner’s eyes widen._

_“Oh.”_

_“Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve been to any of them before, but it can get… bad. There was barely any space for us sometimes, and while some of the staff genuinely tried to make it a good place – or at least_ bearable _but not enough seemed to care.”_

_“Most nobles think of them as conscription fodder,” Jeong Jeong says darkly. “I’ve only heard rumours, but surely it’s not–”_

_“It is. The older kids had to take care of the younger ones a lot, and the staff were barely equipped to deal with babies. I mean, some could, but the rest were inexperienced since people kept quitting. They wanted to help but couldn’t deal with how awful it was for long. I can’t blame them, really, it’s why I left too. The army’s a way out for a lot of us.”_

_“You didn’t directly join the army after aging out, though,” Jeong Jeong observes._

_“I studied under a blacksmith for a while. I knew how to fight with swords, but there’s not much demand for that sort of thing elsewhere. So I learned how to make them, and earned a fair amount of money for a while. Then they started mass-producing weapons, and I realised that the only way I could keep a roof over my head if I joined the army.”_

_“Piandao…”_

_“It wasn’t terrible,” he deflects, feeling a little uncomfortable with all this sharing. He’s never told anyone this before, but he doesn’t regret it one bit. “And while I might have made a different choice if I could have afforded to, it still isn’t the worst thing to happen. I’m mostly assigned to train new recruits, so after my term of service is over, I think I might do that.”_

_“That sounds great,” Jeong Jeong says honestly. Piandao knows that the man has been assigned to teach new recruits as well, but can’t for a second imagine his partner as an instructor._

_“What about you?” Piandao asks him. “What are you going to do when you retire?”_

_Jeong Jeong sighs. “I’m not sure, honestly. All my life, I’ve had plans to do this, since I was born into a semi-noble family and it was the most honourable thing to do. My family wanted me to do it too – firebending prodigy and all that. Now that I’m here… I’m not so sure, but I don’t think I want to plan anything for the future.”_

_“Wading in blind, then?”_

_“I guess,” he agrees, leaning back on his forearms, tipping his head back to watch the sky._

_Piandao loves the sunset, and the colours that paint the sky. But the view from here, watching Jeong Jeong relax beside him…_

_He loves the sunset, yes, but he thinks he might just love Jeong Jeong a bit more._

* * *

Piandao wants to Iroh, but right about the time he decides to go buy a personal messenger hawk, a notice sheet is nailed to the front door. Fat pulls it down as he tuts disapprovingly at the damage, but Piandao himself is more concerned about its contents. The notice contains a quick illustration of Iroh, with writing along its side – _WANTED for desertion and treason._ A hefty sum accompanies the declaration, along with a quick statement about Princess Azula being charged to bring the ‘traitor’ home.

He wonders if this has something to do with the moon going out the other day and ruining all the coastal towns around the Fire Nation.

He’s glad, if slightly guilty, that Zuko’s name hasn’t made it to the wanted posters yet. But this does have the unfortunate side effect of an inability to write to Iroh, so Piandao crumples up the scroll and tosses it into the nearest firepit in his estate. If not the Grand Lotus himself, who could he possibly consult? Not King Bumi, certainly – the man may be a centenarian and the senior-most member of the White Lotus, but he would have matters of the State to attend to. Or, at least, matters of the city-state under his rule. Besides, if the rest of his correspondence with the Order happened to be correct (which it likely would be), Omashu is the _last_ place he’d want the letter to reach.

So. Not Earth King Bumi. Pakku and Yugoda were other high-ranking members, and while Piandao genuinely cannot get along with the man’s outdated sense of ‘tradition’, contacting the Northern Water Tribe so soon after an invasion would be a terrible idea anyway. That would leave Janani, who just so happened to leave on a mission a few days before the Invasion of the North.

 _And Jeong Jeong,_ he realises. It would also leave Jeong Jeong, who would almost definitely have relocated to a safehouse for White Lotus members. Zuko had mentioned a spot near one of the interior Earth Kingdom villages that he’d found the man in, so the nearest – and second nearest – would be ideal places he could send the bird.

But it would mean leaving the safe house slightly less secure, and Jeong Jeong would be a little more in danger than he would be right now. Which already happens to be pretty high.

There’s no thinking about it, in the end.

Piandao dips his brush into the ink and writes to his partner.

* * *

_“Higher.”_

_“I’m already holding them high,” Zuko protests, frowning up at Jeong Jeong. “And this is how Master Tan told me to do it.”_

_Jeong Jeong raises a brow. “And now I’m telling you it’s wrong. I’ve been a firebending master for far longer than he has, who do you think knows better?”_

_“I get it, you’re old,” Zuko mutters. Piandao, who had been silently observing them until this point, snorts into his cup of tea. “But even the Fire Lord–”_

_“Zuko. What do we say about the Fire Lord?”_

_“He’s wrong and doesn’t know anything about true firebending,” Zuko parrots automatically, and scowls at having fallen for the set-up. Piandao chuckles and decides to rescue his kid._

_“What he means is to make sure your arm is high enough to be able to deflect fire from your torso and face without floundering around,” he explains, gently poking Zuko in the chest to illustrate his point. Zuko winces and adjusts his position, and Piandao turns to Jeong Jeong. “And stop teasing him, you know how lessons are taught at the palace.”_

_Jeong Jeong sighs and leans over to kiss him lightly._

_“Only for you,” he concedes, and Piandao rolls his eyes. Out of the peripherals of his vision, he can see Zuko imitating the action with all the drama of an affronted kid catching their parents showing overt affection. This connection, and not the kiss itself, is what makes him flush, and he coughs awkwardly before ruffling Zuko’s hair and returning to his seat at the Pai Sho table._

_“Is this form better?” Zuko asks Jeong Jeong, who moves to examine it from all angles and nod approvingly._

_“It’s perfect,” he says, and the kid beams. “But you still have to execute the block,” he adds, getting into position himself and showing him the move, then repeating it slowly so that Zuko can imitate him._

_He’d learned swiftly alongside Piandao that this was usually the best way for Zuko to swiftly grow accustomed to new forms. Merely demonstrating them and asking him to repeat them was no help in the slightest, and Piandao had caught on to how frustrated he’d get if he didn’t catch on quickly enough and sought out different styles of teaching to see if they were easier._

_Now, Zuko performs the block with confidence, and hardly startles when Jeong Jeong nudges his arms higher to the right angle._

_“I’m not throwing fire at you yet,” he warns, crouching to pick up a stray peach that had rolled to the ground from the basket beside the Pai Sho board, “but let’s test it out now.”_

_The first time Jeong Jeong tosses the peach at Zuko, it smacks him in the forehead and he stumbles back, disoriented. Jeong Jeong winces._

_“Sorry, kid. That’s on me for going so high.”_

_“No, I – I held my form too low,” Zuko insists, and tosses the fruit back to the older man._

_The fruit hits him in the shoulder this time, barely missing the block by a hair. Zuko frowns, frustrated, but Jeong Jeong merely repeats the exercise a few times until he’s satisfied._

_“Will you throw fire at me now? What do I do with it once I block it, do I just let it dissipate or actively extinguish them?”_

_“You try to limit its power and force without distracting yourself from other attacks. If they’re too fast or you’re surrounded, don’t bother with this step, just brush the flames away. If it’s a one-on-one duel, make sure you let them go out fast so that they don’t hurt bystanders.”_

_Zuko nods eagerly and gets into position expectantly. He’d accidentally roasted the peach after being too enthusiastic while adding fire to his block as a shield of sorts, and waits expectantly for his temporary teacher to find another projectile to block. Jeong Jeong frowns at the boy._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“I want to try it again,” he says bluntly. “Hopefully against fire.”_

_The older man squints at him. “You want me to throw fire at you?”_

_Zuko blinks a few times and drops out of his position. “Well, when you say it like that…”_

_Jeong Jeong sighs. “Zuko, take a break. You’ve nearly mastered this form after working on it all day, we can return to it tomorrow.”_

_Piandao catches the way he goes to reply, but holds himself back with a frown of his own._

_“Okay,” he says instead, and bows slightly. “May I be excused?”_

_“Sure,” Jeong Jeong says casually, and Zuko skips off indoors. “Is it bad that he doesn’t seem to grasp the concept of breaks even after this long?”_

_“He didn’t try to convince you to let him continue practicing,” Piandao points out. “That’s progress, even if it’s slow.”_

_“Hm.”_

_Piandao sighs and sets the Pai Sho board aside. Only the spirits know what he’s thinking about, but Jeong Jeong would be effectively distracted by a spar, so he unsheathes his sword. True to form, the man grins and slips into a starting position expectantly. Piandao also moves into the enclosure, sword at the ready to block any fire that was hurled his way. With the skill of someone who’s done this a thousand times already, Jeong Jeong strikes first, and in a flash of steel against flame, Piandao leaps forward._

* * *

“Princess, are you certain we’re on the right course?”

Azula raises a brow. “Are you _doubting_ me, Admiral?”

“No, not at all, of course not–”

“Hm. It sounded like it,” she says flippantly, trying not to smirk at the man’s obvious discomfort. Frying the man would be too much of an effort, anyway, there’s no point in doing so when it’s already clear that scaring the lights of him would be just as effective.

“I assure you, your Highness, I was _not_ insinuating in any way–”

“At ease, Admiral. To answer your question, I know my uncle well. He would have made for the interior Earth Kingdom as soon as he left the Northern Water Tribe, and who knows whether he hitched a ride with the Avatar while running away?” She let the question hang in the air for a minute before pointedly adding, “Which _means_ , this ship had better be using all of its power to reach our destination sooner, before the traitor slips away from my grasp.”

The helmsman – or one of them, anyway, she’s not sure – speaks up at this. “Your Highness, I’m afraid the tides would make it incredibly unsafe to bring in the ship at port any sooner than the charted course.”

“Then _find a way around them_.”

“I’m – I’m afraid that won’t be possible, the effects of whatever happened to the moon are still inconveniencing our ships.”

“Helmsman, you will find a way to land at the correct port before the proposed timeline, or you’ll find yourself with a bigger problem than _inconvenience_.”

The sailor gulps. “Of course, your Highness.”

“See to it as you will, then. You’re all dismissed.”

The clang of boots across metal rings across the deck as the attending officers head back to their posts – all save for her two guards, who stand at a respectful distance behind her.

 _Uncle, I hope you know what you’re doing_ , she thinks, and ruthlessly quenches the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iroh can have a bit of grief counseling, as a treat
> 
> Speaking of, all the names that Iroh mentions for their fake identities are Japanese. Katsuro means 'victorious son', which Piandao definitely picked out beforehand since Zuko is a terrible liar; Ren means 'lotus' or 'love', which is supposed to be as subtle as naming Yue after the moon; and Tamotsu means 'protector' or 'keeper'.
> 
> Some pianjeong backstory inspired, once again, by acezuko's wonderful fic, "[spark from a flame: courtyard rights and other tales](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090770)". That scene in my mind had the same vibe as all the rooftop scenes in this fic, and Piandao's story about his childhood in an orphanage is discussed in more detail in my other fic, '"i swear that i’ll be around for you".
> 
> Azula's entrance was a surprise, but then I say that nearly every chapter. Her dialogue is taken mostly from canon itself, with a few changes due to the nature of the au.


	13. Chapter 13

With a set destination in mind along with a deadline, Aang seems to be far less distracted than he’d been while they all headed North. They decide to stop by Omashu after visiting Fong to check whether Aang can learn earthbending from King Bumi (Sokka is a little skeptical considering a king would have _some_ amount of governing to do) before heading on to Gaoling. He’s certain that they’re going to make a few more stops along the way, but at least they’ll be on a schedule.

Maybe he should make one of those.

It’s morning when they reach the familiar city, but what none of them had anticipated was for it to be conquered by the Fire Nation too.

“I can’t believe it,” Aang says softly. “I know the war has spread far, but Omashu always seemed untouchable.”

“Up until now, it was,” he tells his friend, hands tightening on the reins. “Ba Sing Se would be the only great Earth Kingdom stronghold left.”

“We may have to move on, Aang,” Katara says. “If the Fire Nation has taken Omashu…”

“I have to go in and get Bumi,” he replies.

“Aang, _no_ , we don’t know what’s happened there, it’ll be too risky. Not to mention after what you did at the Northern Water Tribe, I’m pretty certain that everyone in the world would have heard of you. The Fire Nation _definitely_ has a bounty out for you.”

“I know, Sokka, but I can’t leave him there just because!”

Katara sighs. “I know you have your heart set on Bumi being your teacher, but there are other people who can teach you earthbending too.”

“This isn’t about finding my teacher,” Aang says grimly. “This is about finding my friend.”

Sokka groans and tugs at Appa’s reins, the massive bison slowly descending into the earth. “Fine, but there’d better not be any secret tunnels this time.”

“Well…”

“ _No way_. Aang, is there a secret passage below Omashu?”

The kid smirks at him, but doesn’t reveal his answer until they’re there.

“ _Spirits_ ,” Katara mutters, squinting into the darkness. “Have others taken this path before?”

Murky water splashes onto them, and she only manages to deflect it away in time.

“Guess that answers my question.”

* * *

_[Excerpt from a decrypted letter from the White Lotus Archives, sent from Piandao to Jeong Jeong]_

_We can talk more about your letter in person when the time is right. If Zhao knows that you and the 41 st are alive, you must split up the division across multiple safe houses to keep them safe. Make them organize the documentation for people travelling across nations, send them to the safest checkpoints near the colonies that you can find. No one will expect dead soldiers to be stationed next to a thriving center of our country. To catch you up on news, in case you haven’t heard all the gossip, the Avatar has officially been declared an enemy of the Fire Nation and its people. Our esteemed monarch has annexed Omashu, leaving the impenetrable fortress the only standing stronghold of the Earth Kingdom._

_Some rumours say that the princess has been sent out to retrieve the Dragon, who was declared missing after the invasion…_

* * *

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Zuko says formally to the young healer, bowing.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says lightly. “Just… try to stay away from poisonous plants next time.”

He snorts. “I’ll do my best. My uncle would do anything for a new blend of tea, so it’s hard to tell.”

Song giggles and steps back to rummage around her desk. “In that case, you should probably take this handbook with you, it’ll make sure both of you know which herbs and berries are medicinal, edible, both, neither, and which ones are poisonous.”

Zuko blinks. “Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly–”

“I memorized it years ago,” she interrupts. “And Mother made me copy the whole thing down multiple times in case we had people try to steal or destroy this volume.”

“People would do that?”

She nods solemnly, the previous joking air disappearing. “I’d say it’s just the Fire Nation trying to make things harder for us to survive, by draining us of our common knowledge bit by bit, but terrible people fight on both sides of the war. Just the other day, some soldier from the Earth Army appropriated Madhavi’s house a few streets away and trashed the place before leaving with the rest of his regiment.”

Zuko hums. “The Fire Nation burning books… I didn’t think they’d do that.”

Song shrugs. “Well, the best way to establish dominance over other cultures is if they eradicate others. You know the same happened to the Air Nomads.”

He sucks in a breath. He’d visited the Western Air Temple a few years ago with Dad, and while some artefacts and documents had survived, it hadn’t nearly been enough to be indicative of a living, thriving culture and community of people – kids, youths, adults and elders – there was precious little left, and all of it had screamed tragedy. He’d been sick after seeing it all, but had been an important lesson to learn.

He supposes it’s about time for another big lesson to match, so he accepts what Song says with a nod.

“Now that the Avatar’s back, though, there’s hope that the war will end before the Earth Kingdom’s culture is completely erased too!”

Zuko blinks. It’s not the brand of optimism he’d been expecting to see from someone today, but people are always people. “Yeah. There is.”

The two of them bow to each other as his uncle calls for them to leave, and when he mounts the ostrich-horse once more, it’s with a head buzzing full of new thoughts and questions about the war.

“Stay safe on the roads,” she said, smiling.

“May the earth keep you well.” It’s a formal wish, modified from something he’d read about travellers’ customs in the Fire Nation before the Hundred Years’ War, but it was all he could think to say.

They nodded to each other once more, and Zuko runs over to the ostrich-horse, hoisting himself onto the creature in a single movement. Without looking back, he gently snaps the reins, encouraging it to trot out towards the main street and gallop forward.

“So, what was that about?” Uncle asks innocently, and Zuko’s good eye narrows.

“Don’t,” he warns, and hears the man chuckling behind him. “She was telling me about the Earth Kingdom, and gave me a book of plants and their uses. Mom taught me about them before she left, but I think I forgot them after all these years.”

“And you want me to memorize these details to prevent another situation like this,” his uncle adds, sounding far too reasonable for someone who had actually gotten into the situation while Zuko had gone ahead for less than ten minutes.

“ _Yes_ ,” he says pointedly, hoping the message gets through.

(It does.)

* * *

_“Hi, Mai.”_

_Mai whirls around and nearly hurls a dagger at the source of the sound, but lowers her arm when she realises who it is._

_“Zuko, you need to stop doing that. It’s creepy when people can’t hear you coming.”_

_“But that’s the point,”, he says, rolling his eyes. “I heard that you’re now a big sister, so I wanted to congratulate you on that as well as becoming a knife-throwing master.”_

_Mai grins at him for that second part, but is otherwise unsure of how to reply. “Thanks. Tom-Tom’s still a baby, so I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing. My parents seem enchanted with him, so all it’s meant so far is that I’m even more bored.”_

_Zuko shrugs. “I have no clue either. I was only two when Azula was born, but I think she was a really quiet kid for her age.”_

_Mai snickers at the offered bait, taking it shamelessly. “As opposed to you,_ O Noisy One _?”_

_Zuko rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m actually supposed to be passing through, but I wanted to stop off to give you something. I know you couldn’t keep up with knife-throwing in the Academy, but I hope you’ll be able to practice now that you’ve graduated early.”_

_“My parents won’t care as long as I don’t scuff the furniture,” she says dully. She’s not jealous of Tom-Tom getting all of her parents’ attention, but she_ does _resent the lack of acknowledgement towards their daughter’s achievements and their overall non-involvement in her life past suppressing her into the perfect, mild-mannered noblewoman they want her to be. Zuko momentarily rests a hand on her shoulder in sympathy before dropping it again. They both understand wanting their parents’ approval for themselves, and Mai is genuinely glad that he has such a figure in his life these days. She just wishes it could be the same for herself._

_As though he’s read her mind, Zuko says; “You know, Dad would love to read letters you send, even if they’re just a single line updating him on what you’ve done. He’s really proud of your progress and would be ecstatic to hear that you’ve been practicing still.”_

_Mai hums. “I suppose it’s a good idea. I’ll think about it. But you were saying something about bringing me gifts?”_

_“Who said they were gifts?” Zuko counters automatically, even as he reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a silk-wrapped box with a blood-red ribbon the only splash of colour across the box. Mai smirks and takes it from him, untying the ribbon with a single tug and pushing aside the cloth that covers the admittedly plain wooden box. An engraved design of fire lilies lines the lid, but the box itself is otherwise unadorned. She finds her curiosity growing and lifts the lid off – and gasps._

_Inside, nestled in fine black cloth, are some of the most_ beautiful _shuriken she’s ever seen. Polished to a mirror shine, and razor-sharp by the looks of it. “Zuko…”_

_“There’s more,” he says, clearly looking pleased with himself as he hands over a small cylinder to her. It’s capped in the way that most messenger scrolls are when they’re attached to hawks, but from the weight, she can guess that whatever ‘more’ is supposed to be isn’t a letter. She doesn’t hesitate to yank off the cap and tilt the canister sideways. Two gloves fall out, made of stretchy fabric and – is that leather?_

_“Zuko, why would I need lined leather gloves?”_

_Zuko laughs. “They’re not gloves, Mai. Try them on.”_

_Mai does as he asks, and only then does she notice the tiny sheaths that line the wrists of each glove._

_“There’s a tiny snap mechanism in each one,” Zuko explains. “Ty Lee said that it works when you snap your wrist out.”_

_Mai experimentally proceeds to replicate the motion, nearly dropping the dart that slips into her palm. She grins despite herself, her mood effectively lifted. “Cool. You said Ty Lee discussed this with you?”_

_“Well, yeah. She ordered these to be made to your measurements, since you’re both apparently close enough that it would work, and Dad helped me forge the blades. It was a team effort.”_

_“Don’t ever ask me to repeat this,” she says, eyes glued to the the shiny blades and already thinking about how she could stash them under her flowy sleeves, “this was really sweet of both of you. Thank Ty Lee for me if you see her again.”_

_“Of course. Anything for our best friend,” Zuko proclaims, dipping into a light bow – clearly teasing and friendly, as opposed to court instinct._

_Some part of Mai’s heart swoops to hear the admission that she’s best friends with Ty Lee_ and _Zuko – she knows this already, of course, they’re her best friends too, but it’s nice to hear it from them. And perhaps it’s the fact that she’s seeing him after a long while, or the incredibly thoughtful gifts she’s just received, but she forgoes all her parents’ lectures about propriety and embraces Zuko tightly. He squeaks and goes quiet for a second before his arms rise to wrap around her too, burying his face in her shoulder._

 _“I love these gifts,” she says into his own shoulder. “Thank you_ so much _. You have no idea how much this means to me.”_

_Zuko makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat, but recovers himself quickly. “I can guess,” he says softly. “Considering this might be the first time you’ve initiated a hug with anyone.”_

_She pulls away a moment later and smacks him in the shoulder. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you get to throw it about.”_

_“I won’t tell Ty Lee, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Zuko says drily. Mai snorts._

_“Seriously, though… if you see her, tell her I love these gloves. What are they even called?”_

_“No idea. But I’ll pass on the message.” Zuko is already walking away, backwards as he faces her to keep speaking. “It was fun seeing you again, Mai.”_

_“You too, Zuko.”_

_A blink of an eye, and he’s gone._

* * *

Ty Lee loves waking up early to warm up. Unlike the rest of her friends in the circus (and outside it too), she normally sneaks out of her shared tent to run through a basic set of exercises that would keep her flexible enough for her act. Since she’s up for something more challenging than usual tonight, though, she practices a different set. She’s upside-down in the middle of an endurance stance, balancing on her hands, when a pair of gleaming boots enters her field of vision.

She only knows of one person who polishes their boots to such a shine, and while her blood goes cold at the thought, she maintains her cheeriness – now simply a façade.

“Ty Lee, could that possibly be you?”

She grins, breaking her headstand with experienced grace. “Azula! It’s so good to see you!”

She’s somewhat surprised when the hug she unleashes on the princess is returned by her, and wonders what that means.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt your… whatever it is you were doing.”

Ty Lee steps back once more with a nod and moves into her next position, holding it for longer than she’d been able to do the last time she’d warmed up with this set.

“Tell me,” Azula says with such pointed curiosity that it could only be a prelude to some derisive comment, “what is the daughter of a nobleman doing here? Certainly our parents didn’t send us to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls so that you’d end up in places like… _this_.”

_Yep, there it is._

Ty Lee simply shrugs and changes position again. She remains silent, suspecting that Azula still has something to say.

“I have a proposition for you,” Azula declares, and Ty Lee’s smile slips for the first time. “I’m hunting a traitor. You remember my old fuddy-duddy uncle, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she recalls. “He’s really funny.”

Iroh – and his son, Lu Ten – had been really nice whenever she’d visited the palace as a kid. They’d always made time to ask her how she was doing, and Lu Ten had even had a running joke with her where he’d offer to teach her a few fire-accompanied circus tricks and she would, depending on the time she didn’t have to spend with Azula, occasionally accept. It had been a lot nicer to visit the palace when the two princes had been around, as well as Azula and Zuko’s mother. The corridors of the place had never felt more imposing than when Fire Lord (then Prince) Ozai swept past her or watched silently as she spent time with Azula and Mai.

Not that she’d ever tell Azula, of course. That would be treason, and also plain stupidity.

“I would be honoured if you would join me on my mission, old friend.”

 _What_?

“Oh, um – I’d love to,” she stutters, springing back to her feet. “It’s just, I’m really happy here. And my aura has never been pinker!”

Azula blinks. “Right. I’ll take your word for it. Well, I wouldn’t want you to give up the life you love just to please me,” she says, with enough sourness in the words for Ty Lee to realise that she might have overstepped.

Still, she bowed formally, braid falling over one shoulder. “Thank you, Azula. Good luck with your mission!”

“Of course, before I leave, I’ll be sure to catch your show,” the princess says before walking away.

Ty Lee lets her smile drop entirely as she turns to head back inside her tent.

“Ah, Agni, I’m in so much trouble.”

* * *

_A waterbender in the Fire Nation._

_It almost entirely sounds fake, baseless save for a few rumours here and there with nothing truly conclusive. It can’t be the Avatar’s waterbending master; Piandao knows that they’re currently travelling in the Earth Kingdom. Besides, the few fragments of information that he’s been given sound like the waterbender has stayed in the Fire Nation for a while, which wouldn’t be likely with the Avatar and his companions._

_He’s not sure what a waterbender would be doing in the Fire Nation at all, let alone an adult – not right after the North had been invaded, and the place is already isolated enough –_

Oh _._

_Piandao instantly sprints to his rooms to pack a bag with enough proof that he’s not with the army or any other authorities that would be looking for them, and straps on at least two of his swords. His eyes fall on the lunar calendar on his desk, something he didn’t usually bother checking but had gotten into the habit of when Jeong Jeong would stay over and since he’d adopted Zuko._

Fostered _, he reminds himself. He hasn’t adopted the boy yet. The Fire Lord hasn’t struck him from the family line yet, and unless Zuko were to be formally disowned, Piandao couldn’t do anything about it by law._

_It takes him a moment to match the dates on the solar and lunar calendars, but once he does, he breathes a sigh of relief._

_A new moon in three days._

_He packs in an extra White Lotus tile and hastily scribbles out a note for Fat to find once he returns to the estate. Piandao has been known to leave without announcement before; it happens regularly enough as a result of missions for the Order that he wouldn’t worry, but uncommonly enough for the man to take it seriously._

_When he leaves, no one notices._

* * *

Mai wants to leave.

She wants to go back to Shu Jing, where she could actually be who she wants to be, without judgement or observing rank, and learn more knife-throwing techniques from Piandao, or listen to Zuko rambling about theater, or find Ty Lee and spend some time with her, doing _whatever_.

A shadow falls across the room, and despite facing away from the newcomer, Mai knows exactly whose silhouette that is.

“Please tell me you’re here to kill me,” she says dryly. She turns around and grins at – _when did Ty Lee get here_ – her friends, though she’s a little surprised when Azula pulls her into a hug. The princess must be doing better than she’d thought at the palace – she knows that the Fire Lord can be near impossible to please, even though Azula can usually meet his awfully high standards.

“It’s good to see you, Mai,” she says sincerely, stepping back right as Ty Lee bounds over and wraps her into a hug. Mai laughs softly at her enthusiasm, embracing her friend warmly.

“I thought you’d run away and joined the circus? You said it was your calling.”

Ty Lee releases her, still beaming, and steps back. There’s something in her eyes that Mai doesn’t know how to interpret, but she looks the very picture of an excited teenager reunited with an old friend.

“Well,” she says, “Azula called a little louder.”

 _Oh_ , Mai thinks, nodding with understanding. The gleam in Ty Lee’s eyes shifts, but Mai can see the miniscule relaxation of her shoulders at the action. The princess herself doesn’t seem to notice, barrelling right into the purpose of her visit.

“I have a mission from the Fire Lord,” she says, resting a hand on each of their shoulders, “and I need you both.”

With such a direct request, there’s no saying no to Azula.

“Anything to get away from this place,” Mai drawls, channelling the right amount of derision into her voice to avoid suspicion of half-heartedness.

Azula smirks, and something in Mai’s chest loosens.

It’s the right answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reference for the flashback scenes: the first letter was written right before the Gaang reached Omashu; the scene between Mai and Zuko happened a year or so ago before Omashu was conquered, while Mai and her family still lived in the Fire Nation; and Piandao's final scene takes place in the nebulous time between the Gaang leaving the NWT and splitting up in the Earth Kingdom.
> 
> The thing about the first scene is that by removing the need for Zuko's redemption arc, I've basically cut season 2 by a major amount. This was mostly why I decided to change things up in the timeline, but the more I thought about where I was taking this, I really needed to make those changes in order to get the plot together. However, despite Zuko understanding the consequences of the war from the FN's side, he needs the practical experience to let it sink in how exactly the EK has been damaged by it - and it's completely different from the SWT too, so new lessons all around
> 
> I'd also like to make it clear: while neither side of the war is morally pure, on account of desperate bids to keep their territories or attempting to conquer them, plus the soldiers having their own complexes about power, the Earth Kingdom still comes off worse since they're just holding off the Fire Nation and not attacking back. I'm not trying to villanise the EK, but war is not a simple 'X is good and Y is bad' situation. On the individual scale, it's infinitely more complex than that, which is what I'm trying to show here.
> 
> I'm not overly happy with the excerpt from the letter, but it worked as a quick summary so I decided to leave it in. I did enjoy writing Mai and Ty Lee's scenes with Azula; because while Azula may be more mellow than in canon due to Iroh's influence, she's still got some toxic persuasion within her that she hasn't unlearned. It's going to be fun to think of the changes in her character, and I always love writing Mai and Ty Lee!
> 
> About Piandao's scene: I did say things would start diverging from here.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, see you next week with ch14!


	14. Chapter 14

“Higher,” Iroh says, and Zuko all but growls.

“Uncle, if I held my stance any higher, I’d be bending fire at the sky,” he snarls. It’s as effective as the little turtleduck he’d snuck into his room one day that had quacked at him, with how used to Zuko’s short temper he is. “Or I’d fall over. This isn’t sustainable for rocky terrain.”

Iroh frowns. He isn’t particularly _wrong_ – but Zuko’s balance never really recovered after the damage to his inner ear from the burn, and even regular ground normally has the same effect to him as a sandbar would to someone with impeccable posture.

“Try doing the rest of the form,” he says, and Zuko grits his teeth but obeys, methodically running through each step without faltering save the one stance he’d had an issue with.

“I believe we’re encountering the same problem that we did with one of your beginning stances,” Iroh muses, after he has Zuko hold his position for as long as he can. “Try shifting your weight forward so that you can crouch down and roll forward instead of the aerial launch.”

Zuko frowns and stares ahead of him, as though mentally mapping out how to perform this new sequence and still shift smoothly into the next stance of the form. Then, he steps back, and when he reaches this step, ducks and rolls before using a punch of fire fists to propel him into a flip that lands him right in the position that would transition into the next step. The rest of the form flows just as smoothly, and by the time Iroh is satisfied with the amended form, Zuko must have done it at least ten more times.

“I believe that’s enough bending for today, nephew,” he says softly, and Zuko drops to the ground with a loud groan.

Iroh sits down beside him, chuckling, with far more grace and less speed. “You’re a master swordsman, Zuko, I find it odd that a single form takes so much out of you.”

“’S not easy to control the fire,” Zuko mumbles past the arm carelessly tossed over his face. “I’m not just doing the form, I need to direct and regulate my flame to match it. It’d be a lot easier to let the fire do what it wants, but learning forms doesn’t account for that.”

Iroh sighs. “True enough, nephew. Your control is remarkable, as is your progress. Most people I know would also have taken at least a few weeks to master this form, instead of a few days.”

Zuko grins and sits up with a grunt, squinting at the sky. “We should get moving,” he observes. “Gaoling is still a week’s ride away, and we’ll have to give up the ostrich-horse at some point, so we’ll need those spare days to catch up.”

“I’m certain they would wait for you,” Iroh says, but goes to pack up their bedrolls and the few other things they’d removed from the saddlebags when they made camp overnight. Zuko tries to help, but Iroh just pushes him back down and shoves a cup of lemon and peach tea into his hands.

When they’re finally back on the ostrich-horse and galloping away deeper into the Earth Kingdom, Iroh comments, “At this rate, you’ll be a master of firebending within the fortnight.”

Zuko stills. “Really?”

“Really.”

Silence stretches on between them for a while. Then: “Do you really think I can make it through the final sets? I know the kind of skill they require, and I’m not sure if I’m quite there yet.”

“Nephew, you’ve done a marvellous job so far, and with the skill you have in wielding your swords, you shouldn’t find the sets themselves too hard.”

“I might need to control lightning at one point,” he points out, and Iroh winces.

“That’s only a sub-category of firebending, you shouldn’t be too worried about that.”

“Remember that assassin I mentioned? I’m not going to be able to do much against themm with regular bending, even if I am a master by the time I face them.”

“Are you certain they’re still looking for you? You’ve probably been declared missing by now, or dead.”

“The Fire Lord doesn’t nearly care enough about me to declare me either of those things,” Zuko says, and Iroh hates that it’s so matter-of-factly worded. He hates even more that his nephew is _right_ , that Ozai has never once cared about his children, especially Zuko, to bother lifting a finger in their direction unless it’s to hurt. Ozai never cared, not in a way that counted. Being there for Azula as a stable figure to fall back on was the most he could have done without being questioned by the man, and while he’s not sure how that reflects on his niece now, he hopes that his silent support has done _something_ to help.

“Regardless, nephew, the assassin may not expect you to still be alive.”

“If they’re as good as their bending implied, they won’t give up unless either of us is a pile of ashes on the floor,” Zuko says darkly. “You’re not the only one who’s heard rumours.”

Iroh sighs; they’re approaching nightfall fast. “We should make camp here; we’ve made a good ways towards the checkpoint. I have a feeling we’ll reach the place a lot sooner than we imagined.”

“You don’t sound very happy about that,” Zuko observes wryly. “And there’s still time before the sun actually sets.”

“Not for us to reach a campsite as good as this one,” Iroh points out.

Zuko sighs. “Fine, Uncle. But we’re leaving at first light.”

“I thought you wanted to learn lightning bending?” the man asks sardonically.

“That too, but I think we’re too close to a city to be shooting lightning into the sky without being noticed.”

“Nonsense! This area has been dry and abandoned for the last thirty years after a drought chased away the people living here. The most we’ll find is a ghost town if we head in the opposite direction of the road that would take us to Gaoling.”

Zuko hops down from the ostrich-horse. “Okay. When do we start, dawn?”

“I was thinking right now would be good,” Iroh comments, slipping off the creature and patting its flank absently. “Not many people would take notice, and it appears to be around the monsoon season anyway. It wouldn’t look so odd for lightning to strike a few remote areas if it’s about to storm.”

Zuko clearly looks conflicted, but ultimately accepts. “Okay,” he repeats. “What do I do first?”

* * *

_“That was too close,” Sokka mutters. “What do you think that flippy lady did to us to stop your bending?”_

_Katara shudders. “I don’t think I want to find out.”_

_“Would be interesting to use against firebending, though,” he mumbles. She narrows her eyes._

_“Sokka, you can’t experiment with a technique you know barely anything about,” she warns. “You don’t know how harmful it could be, and it doesn’t seem instinctive the way bending does.”_

_“I know, I know. It’s just – these obscure fighting forms seem to be popping up all over the place. Sure, people use knives a lot and I have my boomerang, but between that and whatever Zuko was talking about…”_

_“What are_ you _talking about? Zuko’s only talked about his swords or firebending when he was with us,” she recalls._

_Sokka sighs and shakes his head. Aang turns a little to let them know that he’s listening, even though his attention would mostly be directed towards navigating their way to Gaoling. He’d healed a cut on Sokka’s forearm with Katara’s help, looking so pleased to be able to do more than fight with bending, that they’d held off on any conversation for most part of the day. But they had to discuss this at some point, and now would be as good as any other._

_“He mentioned that someone tried to kill him at a harbour,” Sokka starts. Aang’s expression darkens._

_“He said that Zhao sent someone after him,” he corrects, and Sokka nods._

_“Right. You guys were helping Yue and talking to the Chief, but Zuko told me – and Iroh – about what happened. The pier he stood on exploded, but it wasn’t because of blasting jelly or some other explosive powder.”_

_“Bombs?” Katara offers, looking slightly green at the idea of someone voluntarily going after a teenager. Sokka shakes his head._

_“Nope. He said it was a bender – a firebender who could make things explode. Iroh thought that it was really unlikely, but apparently there’s a subset of firebending where the bender can create explosions instead of simple flame.”_

_Aang sucks in a breath. “I’ve heard about that. It’s a really rare ability, and I only knew because Kuzon and I were waylaid by a bunch of bandits when I visited him once and they were bragging about their ability to make things explode with their bending. It turned out to be fake, but I thought that it sounded pretty bad.”_

_“It does have its uses,” Sokka says. “Just like any other form of bending. I guess a non-lethal purpose hasn’t been found out yet, due to its rarity. Iroh made it sound like it was a once-in-a-generation sort of ability, like those blue flames in Omashu.”_

_“Blue flames are just hotter than regular fire, though,” Katara observes. “That girl_ was _powerful, but it was still regular fire. For someone to be able to use their bending explosively…”_

_“Either regular fire’s under an intense amount of pressure that causes it to blow out,” Sokka hypothesizes, “or this is a completely different way to bend.”_

_He’s not sure which one would be better, to be honest, and like his sister had said earlier about Flippy’s ability to stop others’ bending temporarily, he doesn’t want to find out._

* * *

“There is energy all around us. The energy is both yin and yang; positive energy and negative energy.”

Iroh holds up both his hands, index and middle fingers pointing out while the rest stay curled. He gestures for Zuko to move back, and once he does, Iroh breathes deeply and circles his hands around himself. For a moment, nothing happens, and the man continues. “Only a select few firebenders can separate these energies. This creates an imbalance. The energy wants to restore balance, and in a moment,” – lightning sparks across his fingers and trails around the path he creates with his still circling hands, “– the positive and negative energy come crashing back together. You provide release and guidance, creating lightning.”

He releases the lightning into the air, where it cracks and flickers arrhythmically as it dissipates. Zuko watches it with a frown.

“Again, this sounds a lot like bending philosophy.”

“One cannot bend without the theory behind it,” Iroh chides, and Zuko raises his hands in surrender. “It just so happens that this particular sub-skill requires less rigidity in the form and more connection with the energy. Rather, to guide the energy apart and together with your will.”

Zuko frowns, absently imitating Iroh’s form.

“Would you like to try it now, nephew?”

He nods. Iroh has him repeat the form again, just to have a solid base to work with, and before long he guides him through manipulating the energies around him to create lightning. Zuko’s a little horrified by the technique, which sounds a little too close to distancing himself from his inner fire, but does his best to follow anyway.

“I think I’m ready,” he says once he’s certain he can do it. Iroh steps back and nods at him, and Zuko steps into the stance.

He closes his eyes, trying to calm his racing mind and focus on separating the energies he can sense around him, but all that he’s aware of is the rush of flame, its warmth and his mind buzzing with thoughts and half-baked ideas –

Heat blasts past his hands as he draws them to the finishing stance, and he’s thrown back as something _explodes_. Zuko is sent flying into a tree and grunts as he hits the rough bark, rogue splinters catching him in the shoulder where the seams are wearing out. He doesn’t notice the ringing in his ears as his brain catches up with the last few seconds, and he barely registers Iroh’s worry as his uncle darts to his side.

“Nephew, are you alright?” Uncle sounds nearly frantic with concern, so Zuko snaps back to the present.

“I’m fine, Uncle,” he murmurs, frowning at the now smouldering patch of forest before them. Nothing’s on fire, fortunately, but Zuko still feels the phantom heat on his face and the pressure that blasted him backwards.

“But I think I found out exactly what that assassin did that day on the pier.”

* * *

_“Good thing you came here on a new moon night,” one of the street vendors says to him as he hands over a bunch of ash bananas. “We’ve been writing to the authorities for a few months now but haven’t gotten a response.”_

_“It was nothing at first,” their assistant, a younger and leaner fellow, says, leaning over the counter. “Every full moon, people would report strange sightings. But it was fine, people were only a bit spooked without any real damage. Then the people started going missing.”_

_Piandao frowns. “When did that start?”_

_“A couple months ago. Not many, just a couple here and there – but there doesn’t seem to be a pattern about it. Like I said, we tried to get the Army’s attention – they’re deployed near here, see – but none of them lifted a finger to help.” Then, in a lower tone, “Sometimes, I wonder what their job is, if not to protect people who come to them with issues.”_

_Piandao maintains his neutral expression, refusing to comment. The vendor sighs. “Well, I can tell you’re a stranger ‘round these parts, so Chun here can take you to the old innkeeper.”_

_Chun acquiesces, grumbling all the while, and Piandao keeps up polite conversation with him until they pair find themselves at the doors of a run-down inn. A wizened old lady opens the door and raises a brow expectantly._

_“This man’s been travelling a while, says he’s stopping here for a bit of business before moving on,” is all Chun says, and introduces her to Piandao as well before leaving quickly._

_“It’s a good thing you arrived at the new moon,” she says, like the others in the village._

_“Is this about the missing people again?”_

_The innkeeper nods. “We don’t get a lot of visitors on a normal day, but times have fallen hard with the disappearances.”_

_“I thought I might look into the matter while I stopped here,” Piandao says a little vaguely. “Would you happen to know anything about them, then?”_

_She nods. “Step inside, then. We can talk over a hot meal or a cup of tea; this might take a while.”_

_The place looks about as unkempt inside as it does on the outside, and Piandao fights back a sneeze as he crosses a particularly dusty corridor. She doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort, distinctly_ not _looking back to check whether he’s following her still. Whatever, Piandao isn’t here for the customer service. She seats him at a low table in a private-looking parlour and leaves him for a few minutes, returning with the requested tea._

_“The others said that the disappearances happened at the full moon,” Piandao comments. “Are the targets all firebenders?”_

_She shrugs. “Some of them are, but others aren’t. There’s no pattern, not that we can tell at the moment. So far, in the last three months, seven people went missing, around two or three people each cycle. I believe four of them were firebenders.”_

_Hmm._

_“Did the Army send you here to investigate the matter, or was it the local Magistrate?”_

_“I’m not sent by anyone,” he admits, feeling instinctively that it might be a better move to allude to the truth rather than pretend he’s part of the authorities. “I’m actually not here on any official business. A few acquaintances of mine tipped me off to the presence of something valuable here, so I thought I’d search first before anyone unsavoury took the opportunity.”_

_The innkeeper stiffens. It happens only momentarily, but Piandao has years of experience on him to catch the change in demeanour._

_“Are you some sort of bounty hunter, then?” she asks sceptically._

_He shakes his head firmly. “I didn’t mean_ that _kind of valuable. I heard rumours about someone who lives here, with abilities unlike anyone in the Fire Nation, and this seems to add up with the mysterious disappearances around town.”_

_She hisses out a short breath. “I thought as much,” she murmurs._

_“I believe you know more than you’re letting on,” he says carefully, trying not to sound accusatory. “Otherwise you would have left when people stopped staying over at your inn.”_

_A rush of movement, and a burst of action._

* * *

Iroh breathes out a plume of smoke, and Zuko is a little alarmed at his uncle’s lack of control.

“Is it really that serious?” he asks quietly.

“I’m afraid so,” Uncle says gravely. “You mustn’t do this again, unless you’re in the direst of circumstances. But it does seem like lightning bending isn’t something suited for you.”

“What? Why not?”

“You’re too connected to your bending,” he explains. “Lightning generation requires some amount of separation, or distance. Both in the sense of separating those energies, as well as distancing _yourself_ from it. The few people who _can_ generate lightning can distance themselves from their bending for that single momentary release of energy, but you are in sync with your inner fire far too much for you to do so.”

Zuko frowns at the ground. “I thought it was a good thing, to be like this. It feels _wrong_ when I try to distance myself from it.”

Uncle chuckles and sits next to him, squeezing his shoulder gently. “It isn’t a bad thing, or a good thing. It is simply _you_. Before the war split away from traditional views of firebending, a lot of people would have felt the same. But now… you noticed that what we do with our abilities is used entirely for combat.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“People used their bending a lot more liberally, before the war. Household chores such as starting a fire, heating up water or even the space around oneself… there’s a reason people say that the hearth is the center of one’s home.”

“No one says that, Uncle.”

“Not anymore,” he corrects, and Zuko falls silent. “My _point_ , nephew, is that you bent that explosion because you couldn’t maintain that distance, but tried to do it anyway. Those clashing forces within yourself snapped and reacted at the same time.”

“Is this how such bending normally works?” Zuko’s tone is quizzical, academic. Iroh shrugs.

“I’m not too certain. It’s only a theory, but it seems rather likely. I’m certain there are other explanations as well.”

His nephew nods but stays silent and contemplative. “So what am I supposed to do about the lightning bending now?”

Iroh stands, and reaches out to haul Zuko up after him. “I believe it’s time my _bending philosophy_ taught you something.”

Zuko groans. “This again? If you start giving me that entire lecture once more, I _will_ take the ostrich-horse and run.”

The older man fixes him with an admonishing look, but relents. “I studied this technique from the waterbenders of the North.”

“Of course,” Zuko mutters. “The only southern waterbender around is Katara.”

Iroh chooses to ignore the sarcasm. “I thought it would be quite useful against lightning. No one can survive a lightning strike without the finest treatment, but there is a way to work around it.”

“How come?”

“By redirecting it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few short notes:
> 
> -Zuko has a few issues controlling his fire because he's _really_ in tune with it and his emotions accentuate how he bends. He's also the sort of person who feels incredibly strongly, so the fire responds accordingly. However, Jeong Jeong also made sure that he knew just how important it was to control his fire, so he's still mindful of it when he bends in combat.
> 
> -Yes, I did make combustion bending a firebending form - the way the show did it was offensive as hell ([this post](https://silveryinkystar.tumblr.com/post/627166560420790272/you-know-what-im-gonna-say-it-atla-was-a-huge) does a good job explaining why) and so I combined a few things that Zuko does in the show to create the form, plus added the theory behind it. Combustion bending in itself isn't a terrible concept - I really enjoyed it in the show, just not with the third eye tattoo + only restricted to assassins implications. It also makes sense when considering the subset skill of lightning generation, which also requires a form to be effective.
> 
> For reference, the form that Zuko does is a modification of the way Iroh lightning bends, with the addition of part of this move he pulls in Crossroads of Destiny with the massive fireball (ID in alt text).  
> 
> 
> -About lightning bending not requiring a fixed form - the way Iroh, Azula and Ozai each bend lightning is different, and the lightning they create also looks different. I took that to mean that each person can add their own flair to the form as long as they used the right technique, which is what Iroh means when he says this to Zuko.
> 
> I don't have much else to say, but I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so before I start: my classes just started again and I'm still trying to make sense of my schedule, so I wasn't able to get much writing done this week. I'll be skipping next week's update to post it sometime in the week of 31st January - 4th February. Hopefully by then I'll be able to catch up on the chapters to stick to weekly updates.
> 
> **TW:** Referenced character death in war by earthbending, as well as burial in the earth. Both references aren't at all graphic, but the first is implied to be such. Also, referenced abelism by Toph's parents.

“Y’know, from what Zuko said, I thought Gaoling would be a lot larger,” Sokka says. The other boy had framed it as a bustling center of trade, and while he sees why, it’s still a lot more remote than he’d expected.

Aang flips off Appa’s back and lands lightly next to him, frowning. “I hate to say this about any place, but you’re right. This looks like a small town, not some city with big influence.”

“It’s got the people,” Katara reasons, and Sokka shrugs.

“Eh. Doesn’t matter, anyway. We’re ahead of schedule, though, so we should take a break.”

“Don’t you think we should look for an earthbending teacher for Aang first?” his sister asks, and he waves her worry away.

“Zuko said he’d handle it if he got here first. Maybe he’s ahead of schedule too,” Sokka says blithely. “We deserve some time to ourselves, and we can go look for him in the afternoon at the meeting point.”

“Alright,” Katara acquiesces.

Sokka can tell they’re somewhat annoyed by how many times he stops to ogle a display at the roadside shops, but Spirits help him, there’s so much stuff around here and no pirates to cheat him out of purchasing goods of fine quality. Of course he’d have to haggle, but that’s nothing compared to fleeing a bunch of people with a stolen scroll in hand.

_Good thing Katara isn’t motivated to more robbery_ , he thinks. _And that she doesn’t need more scrolls._

Right about that thought, he spots the absolute most _gorgeous_ bag on display, and for sale right within their price range. Sure, green and gold aren’t Water Tribe colours, but it looks pretty enough that he doesn’t care about whether it matches with the rest of his clothes.

“Aang! Katara! Come look at this!”

“What ‘cha got there, Sokka?” the airbender asks, chipper as always. His gaze falls on the bag, and he grins. “That looks really cool.”

“You think so?” The question sounds too eager, but he’s long since stopped caring.

“Yeah! I think you could pull it off with anything!”

Sokka beams at his friend, who grins right back. By then, Katara catches up to the pair and also supports Aang’s point, which he’s happy about – if either of them had been less enthusiastic about it, he might have considered otherwise in favour of more supplies. But, hey, it’s about time he splurged on something.

“It’s pricey,” he says, “but I do like it.”

Katara looks concerned, and he realises that he’s said that at least thrice this morning. Aang’s smile slips a little as he frowns at him, and Sokka wonders why they both have matching expressions.

“What’s with the looks?”

“You’re the one who wanted to go shopping,” Katara points out. “And you keep trying to talk yourself out of it. If you want to get the bag, _get the bag_.”

“I should!” His eyes fall on the price tag again, and he falters. Perhaps he _should_ get something cheaper and use the money for more supplies. “Or maybe not.”

“Is it the money that’s bothering you?” Aang prompts. Sokka sighs, frustrated.

“I guess. I’m not sure. We’ve never needed such fancy stuff in the South Pole, so I guess I’d like to have it for… for the novelty of it, but it’s not like it’s _necessary_. We’d be better off buying more useful stuff, anyway.”

“Who says a bag isn’t useful?” Katara interjects. “If Zuko as well as Aang’s earthbending teacher are supposed to join us, it’ll be better to have extra bags on hand to carry all our stuff in.”

She’s right, Sokka realises. But what he says is something else entirely -

“There are probably a lot of cheaper bags out there that are bigger and sturdier.”

His sister smacks herself on the forehead, and Aang groans. “Is this going to take long?” he asks, but both siblings ignore him.

“Sokka. Cost aside, _do you like the bag_?”

“Yeah! A lot!”

“Then you should get it. You deserve something nice.”

“I do, don’t I? But – no, it’s expensive, Katara, weren’t you listening?”

He can tell that this is where he’s lost her. She grunts and tosses her hands up, exasperated.

“Then don’t,” she calls, walking away with a huff. Aang follows her, and Sokka starts to do the same, but something in his mind decides to, well, make the decision, and he sprints back to the display and counts out the right amount quickly.

“You know what?” he tells the bemused shopkeeper, “I’ll take it.”

* * *

_“Uncle, they’re advertising an earthbending tournament for people to test their skills against other fighters,” Zuko informs as he slides into a private booth at the inn they’re staying in._

_“Do you think you can find the Avatar’s teacher there?”_

_He shrugs. “Hopefully. Even if I don’t, it seems like it’ll be fun. Plus, I may be able to study earthbending combat forms up close in a safe area.”_

_His uncle appears a little less upbeat about this than he usually does, and Zuko decides not to push – for all that he can be insistent about vocally expressing one’s feelings and how healthy it can be, Uncle’s as bad at talking about things as he is._

_“I see,” is all he says. He looks contemplative as he sips at his tea, and asks Zuko how the matches would work, and he dutifully takes some time to outline the structure of the Earth Rumble, as it’s locally called. But even as he speaks, he can tell that his uncle’s attention isn’t entirely on him, and Zuko wonders what caused him to be so out of it._

_“Are you okay, Uncle?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“You seem kind of…_ off _.”_

_“It’s nothing, nephew,” he says, and Zuko shoots him an unimpressed look. While Uncle has never had the best track record with lying, this has to be one of the worst ones he’s heard._

_“Azula could lie better than that when she first learned that lying was a thing,” he says dryly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but–”_

_“It’s fine,” he interrupts. “I suppose despite my multiple meetings around Earth Kingdom members of the White Lotus, I’m still not entirely comfortable around earthbenders. I understand that the tournament would be a good place to find a qualified master, but wouldn’t academies around the city suffice?”_

_Zuko blinks, surprised. “I’ve only seen one, and they guy barely let me in. I snuck up a tree and spied on the lessons they held, and it seemed like a lot of showy nonsense that didn’t actually help much. Then again, I could have watched a beginner’s class, so I could be wrong. Besides, Sokka and Katara would definitely bring Aang to the academy to check out that master first.”_

_Iroh grimaces. “That is a fair point, nephew,” he acquiesces._

_Zuko sighs. “What is this about?”_

_“You haven’t seen earthbending regiments up close, have you, nephew?” he asks abruptly, and spirits, Zuko feels terrible about bringing it up. “Much like firebenders, they’ve been trained to be less deliberate about where they strike, and more devastating with their power. You remember I showed you a few forms that most front-line footsoldiers are drilled to use in the battlefield?”_

_“Yeah. Larger fans of flame and…_ oh _.”_

_“Indeed. Earthbending is just as effective in injuring people. Wounds caused by earthbending catch infections rather quickly too, due to the impurities in the dirt and stone that may enter the bloodstream.”_

_“Uncle, I…”_

_“You had no reason to know this, nephew,” he says knowingly. “Don’t feel guilty, I understand that you mean well. I hope you’ll excuse me from the, ah, Earth Rumble, should you decide to oversee them.”_

_“I – yeah, Uncle, I won’t mind. But I won’t be able to deliver the message to the White Lotus…”_

_“I believe I’ll have the time to do that for you,” he replies with a quick grin. “Do tell me about the matches once you’re back.”_

_“Of course.”_

* * *

Zuko finds his friends loitering around the Beifongs’ massive estate, and wonders what they’re doing here. He _had_ expected to find them at Gaoling, but the place screams nobility and his friends, to be brutally honest, do not.

“Hey, guys,” he greets, and is in turn greeted by enough screeching to rouse the guards of not just the estate, but the ones in the next town over as well. “Keep it down, nobles don’t like noisy kids on their property!”

“Sorry, it’s just been a while,” Aang says sincerely. Katara repeats the sentiment and embraces him, catching him up to speed with how they’d liberated Omashu and flown all the way here, with Sokka shoving his bag in Zuko’s face to get him to share his opinions on it.

“It looks pretty sweet, Sokka – wait, General Fong did _what_ to Aang?”

Katara’s expression turns serious. “He wanted to force him into the Avatar State to make him a sort of living weapon. Aang would hate himself if he were to be used like that, even if he wasn’t in control.”

“It’s disgusting to do that to a kid,” Zuko says, not bothering to mask his disdain for the man. “I know that war can make people desperate enough to try anything, but to try to control a kid like that is horrible.”

Katara nods. “Good thing Sokka knocked him out, I think I’d have done a lot worse if I wasn’t coughing up sand.”

Zuko knows of a few generals who can control the state of the earth by changing it swiftly to sand and back, and Uncle told him during their days of travel how Lu Ten had been trying to dislodge himself from being half-buried like that before someone took advantage of that distraction to kill him.

“Fong _buried_ you?” he snarls, and Katara scoots away a little, eyes widening at the rage she must see in his eyes. “Katara–”

“Yeah, but only for a minute. I was fine,” she assures him. “We’re okay, Zuko.”

He sucks in a breath laced with smoke, coughing when he realises what he just did. _Tone it down, you don’t need to out yourself as a firebender now._ “If I ever see him…”

“You’ll have to get in line,” Sokka says seriously, then throws an arm around him. “Now, you can wear your royalty hat and help us seem presentable around this lavish estate within which Aang’s future earthbending teacher resides.”

“If you’re trying to get a Beifong to be your teacher,” Zuko says, ignoring his friend’s antics, “you can’t just walk in like that even if you’re the Avatar and his friends. I mean, you could with other nobles, but the Beifongs are not _just_ nobility. They’re incredibly influential merchants, known around the Earth Kingdom. Distant relatives of the Earth King in Ba Sing Se or something, I’m not sure. But whoever your teacher is will have a huge target on their back if someone spots them with you, given how well they’re known.”

A bush rustles to his right, and Sokka squints suspiciously up at him. “Do all you nobles know each other, or something? First it’s old people, and now…”

Zuko sighs. “No, Sokka, but I do know the most important and influential families in the Earth Kingdom like any citizen that lives in the colonies. Oh, also, if you really do want my help, you can’t call me by my actual name.”

“Secret identity time?” Sokka squeaks. “Do I need a fake name too?”

“Nope. You’re going as Aang’s companions and ambassadors from the Southern Water Tribe, and I’m going as his non-bending bodyguard. For obvious reasons,” he adds, and Sokka’s mouth abruptly snaps shut.

“Cool. So what’s your super-secret alternate identity called?” Sokka asks. “And by that, I do _not_ mean the Blue Spirit.”

“Katsuro.”

Aang blinks. “Okay. So what do we do to announce ourselves?”

Zuko frowns and pulls out his coin purse. “First we get me something to wear that’s suitable for the Avatar’s escorts. Sokka and Katara should be fine since the Southern Water Tribe hasn’t interacted with the interior mainland for decades, so no one should question whether they’re in full regalia or not.”

Sokka blinks. “I mean, I do have ceremonial armour and I brought a part of it along…”

“Perfect. If there’s anything else you have that looks fancy, that’ll work too. The Beifongs probably haven’t been out of Gaoling much, so they won’t cross-question you.”

“Whoo!” Sokka cheers, and immediately drags Katara off to where they’d probably left Appa. “You go shopping for something with Aang, I’ll find the stuff I bought up North!”

Zuko blinks after his friends, flummoxed by their excitability. It reminds him a little of Ty Lee’s limitless energy, and he almost says as much to Aang before deciding otherwise. “You should go ahead a bit, I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Sure!” And without questions, he bounds off. Zuko waits a moment until the airbender is out of earshot, and turns to the bush next to him.

“Care to mention who’s behind that bush?”

A young girl of about Aang’s age steps out, arms raised. “Alright, you’ve caught me. I was trying to get back to the manor after giving my parents the slip, but those dunderheads would’ve gotten me caught with their noise if I tried to sneak past them.”

Zuko takes in the elaborate dress and raises his brow. “I didn’t know the Beifongs had a kid.”

The girl scowls at him, her gaze slightly to the left of where he stands.

“Who else would?”

“The staff, maybe?”

A huff. “Point. So, _Katsuro_ ,” she asks, “who exactly are you? And is Twinkletoes there actually the Avatar?”

“Twinkletoes?”

“Sounds like someone tiny, feet don’t nearly touch the ground as much as everybody else’s does…”

_What_?

“I guess you mean Aang, and yeah, he is the Avatar.”

“And he wants a Beifong as an earthbending teacher.” It’s not a question, from the sound of her tone.

“Not really,” Zuko admits. “He wants the Blind Bandit.”

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Were you watching with them?”

“Before them,” he corrects. “I’ve been here for a day or so with my uncle, both of us are staying at an inn – we were waiting for Aang and the others.”

“Huh.” She cast a sightless look at him, and though he knows that she can’t see him, he gets the sense that he’s being scrutinized deeply. “You seem like you’re a little sensible. Nobility, obviously, and maybe royalty from what I heard.”

“Your point, Miss Beifong?”

“Wait till dinner. My parents won’t turn away guests, specifically travellers, and _especially_ the Avatar. They’ll be simpering all over him and the other two. They’re Water Tribe?”

“Southern, yeah.”

“Even better. Your plan is solid. If the rest of them stick to following your lead, they might be able to convince my parents… something. I haven’t decided whether I _want_ to be teaching the Avatar yet, it seems kinda stressful, and I don’t think they’d like for me to go with you guys. But they might be willing to help in other ways, like funding or whatever else you need.”

“I appreciate the tip,” he says, sensing the end of the conversation. “See you this evening?”

“Yeah, yeah. And don’t let anyone know this happened.”

* * *

_It’s absurdly easy for Toph to sneak out of the house. She’s technically supposed to be guarded at all times because spirits forbid she stubs her toe on something she doesn’t see and whatever else her parents are afraid of, but the guards are bored and get more than a little lax with their guarding. A lot of them seem to realise that she’s already memorized the layout of the mansion and as long as nothing is out of place, she can make her way around the house without needing a guide._

_The badgermoles under the hill know that she’s long since passed that stage and moved directly into sensing objects on the ground._

_It takes her a little longer to bend for combat, but earth is firm and unyielding, and Toph is nothing if not a good learner, and she takes the principles of earthbending as the core rules of her own life. Earth does not relent easily or bend in the presence of others, but it exists as more than stone. Earth may be a mountain, but it’s also the gravel footpath under her feet and the soil that plants grow on. Earth exists in different forms, and while Toph refuses to bend under her parents’ stifling rules, she can adapt._

_And so, Lao and Poppy Beifong know one face of their daughter, while the badgermoles know another._

_And soon enough, once her combat bending is good enough, the contestants at the Earth Rumbles know the other face of her too. She gives it a name, the Blind Bandit, and revels in her anonymity. Her parents refuse to acknowledge her existence to others unless she’s spotted by a guest, and since hardly anyone knows that they actually have a daughter, Toph plans to use this to her advantage in an emergency and claim that she’s one of their distant relatives. The Beifongs are a large enough family for it to be plausible, anyway._

_Toph likes not being seen, even if it gets infuriating, because it means she can get away with a lot more stuff than she’d otherwise be able to. But she likes being known for her talents as well, and her audiences in the Earth Rumble contests provide her with more than enough attention to sate her._

_For all that she casually beats up contestants onstage, they don’t seem to hold it against her behind the scenes. They don’t question her when she pries out information from them about the state of the world, merely answering to the best of their ability. She learns a lot more from these fighters than she does from the household staff, and that’s saying something given their propensity to gossip. The Boulder is especially helpful, and stops trying to sugar-coat the subject of the war when she points out that she wants_ all _the details, not a vague barebones story. It helps that he’d fought for the Earth Kingdom at one point, and has a perspective that most of the others miss, and he doesn’t bother hiding much from her save the grittiest of details which even he doesn’t like to relive._

_Outside the contest itself, the guy’s pretty great to talk to. Toph hasn’t fought him before, since he’d lost a match in the quarter-finals and had gone out of the running. Once they’re both_ on _the stage, though, the name calling is second nature to her – some of it is for show, but she mostly enjoys the ability to insult people to their faces without consequences._

_She thoroughly beats him up in less than a minute – the longest match all day, which she’s a bit miffed about – and accepts the raucous cheering. She can sense his bitterness, and genuinely doesn’t care, not when she’s being appreciated for something that she’s worked so hard on, for something she’s incredibly good at that she earned and wasn’t simply given. Earthbending is a gift, but not in the way that her parents receive lavish presents or how she hears people being ‘gifted by the spirits’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. It’s a gift, but it’s something that takes a lot of effort to get right, and Toph is a_ good _earthbender. She’s better than ‘good’, even; she’d passed that when she was ten._

_She’s the_ best _._

* * *

“How do you get this thing on?” Katara huffs, wrestling with the arm band as she tries to push it up to her shoulder. Sokka’s glad he packed those and picked up a few more things from the North that had caught his eye, but it strikes him that Katara, for all that she’s an excellent fighter, has never worn traditional armour before.

It’s not the full set he’d sported back home while passing judgement to Aang; both of them would be puddles on the floor with how sweltering they’d find the heavy furs and lined materials that are better suited for both the poles. The Southern Water Tribe, as a whole, doesn’t quite _do_ formalities the way the North does, but he’s quickly learned from their sister tribe and his observations during their travels to understand that their status matters a lot more outside his homeland than it does within. He’d mentioned this to Yue and she’d instantly helped him pick out a few selections of finery that he could use in emergencies where he may need to pull rank, nominal as it may be. And he’s fine sharing with Katara, so he supposes that it’s another win for his instincts.

“Here,” he murmurs absently, sliding it deftly past her elbow to her bicep. “Keep your arm straight and loose. Tightening the muscles will only make the bands slip off faster, and you do _not_ want to be fixing those all the time.”

“Won’t they be too tight?” Aang asks curiously, and surprisingly enough, Zuko’s the one who answers.

“They’ll fit just right. Sokka and Katara are of similar sizes, or at least both your arms are,” he amends when they stare at him. “I’ve worn similar armbands before, but mine could be adjusted if they were the fancier gold ones.”

“I think I’ve seen those,” Sokka comments. “They looked stupid.”

“Yeah, the full rings are better. A lot less scraping along the skin,” he adds for the others’ benefit.

“You’re supposed to wear them directly on your skin?” Sokka asks him, and he nods.

“Only for ritual purposes. I had to wear them when I first started bending, it’s a whole thing in the royal family. There was some sort of… celebration? I’m not sure what to call it, but there’s a lot of thanking the spirits involved. Not as many festivities, though.”

Katara hums as she deftly braids up her hair once more and pins her trademark loopies to the knot. The braid has a few more beads and is more elaborate than usual, and Sokka himself decides to amend his usually simple wolftail by twisting in a few beads and braids into the strands close to his face. Katara looks a little surprised to see him braid his hair so easily, but makes no comment on the subject. He squints at the mirror in front of him and assesses his appearance, satisfied with how overly formal he looks. If he’d gone out like this back in the South Pole, he’d be laughed out of the village at how ridiculously ostentatious everything is, but he can adapt well enough.

Aang, meanwhile, fusses over Zuko’s tunic even though it looks virtually perfect, and the older boy takes it with a grin and quiet assurances that it looks _fine_ , _buddy, you don’t have to keep straightening my collar_. Said collar looks starched to the point of discomfort, and Sokka almost scratches at his own neck in sympathy. He points this out to Zuko, who laughs – for the first time in their presence, he realises.

“Yeah, I’ve worn stiffer collars than this one,” he says, sounding incredibly amused. “And a lot more uncomfortable too. This one’s relatively tame, and it’s not too high, so it works.”

It _does_ work, Sokka has to admit. Zuko normally carries himself the way a nobleman might, and with the dark green sleeveless robe pinned over his rust-coloured tunic, he looks fancy enough that Sokka would have dismissed him as some stuffy, entitled jerk.

He grabs a cap off the table and quickly places it on his friend’s head. Zuko blinks a few times, surprised, and immediately yanks it off.

“I draw a line at the hat,” he says instantly, and Katara snickers at the pair.

“Okay, Mr. _Bodyguard_ ,” she says pointedly. “I thought your job included actually guarding your charge?”

Zuko hurls the hat across the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last scene was 100% self-indulgent because I was just imagining Sokka's armour in s1 and got _way_ too into it  
> Katara and Sokka modified their usual travel clothes with Sokka’s armour seen in s1e02 and accessorized it with a few things Sokka bought in the NWT. Zuko’s outfit is a cross between what he wore in Ba Sing Se (specifically when he fought Jet / found the Missing Appa poster) and the uniforms of Ba Sing Se University.
> 
> Also, enter Toph! There'll be more of her in the next chapter but it was really interesting to think about her Earth Rumble career pre-canon!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this update!


	16. Chapter 16

“I’m pleased to hear that Toph’s private lessons are progressing well, but I want to be sure that she’s not trying anything too dangerous.”

Toph restrains herself from rolling her eyes. Her father asks Yu this same question after every lesson, never mind that she’s only meditating and daintily manipulating pebbles around. He might mean well, but their overprotectiveness is stifling. She wants _out_ , the way she gets to be her most powerful self at the Earth Rumble matches she participated in earlier that day.

She’d have won the contest too, if it hadn’t been for the floaty guy who’d knocked her off the arena without her sensing it beforehand. The _Avatar_ himself, apparently.

“Absolutely not,” Yu replies smoothly. “I’m keeping her at the beginner’s level. Basic forms and breathing exercises only.”

_Breathing exercises_ have nothing to do with earthbending, not that her parents know of it. The forms do help solidify her basics, but they’re only _slightly_ more useful than the breathing. Endurance tests and exercises that build her strength are what matter, since she needs to firmly wield her power. Those are what her parents think her incapable of doing, and it irritates her to no end to pretend that she still has something to learn from this useless, gold-digging instructor of hers.

She senses a new figure enter the room and supposes it’s one of the household staff. They presumably bow before her parents before announcing that they’re having visitors. Her father’s heartbeat spikes with annoyance as he snaps back at the poor messenger.

“Who thinks they are so important that they can just come to my home unannounced?”

The messenger shifts about, uneasy. “The Avatar and his delegation.”

“ _Delegation?_ ” Father asks sceptically.

“Two representatives of the Southern Water Tribe, and the Avatar’s bodyguard.”

At this, she perks up a little, interested. So not-Katsuro _had_ pulled through.

_This should be interesting_ , she thinks, as her parents’ demeanour instantly changes as they scramble to welcome the ‘delegation’ into their home. She makes no move to help, and doesn’t leave like they used to ask her to – they don’t seem to notice her, anyway, at least until the group greets her along with the rest of the people in the room.

“Avatar Aang, it is _such_ an honour to have you here,” Father says. “I believe you’re just in time for dinner, so it would be wonderful if you could sit with us for a meal.”

“Oh,” Twinkletoes says, startled by the invitation. Not-Katsuro subtly taps him on the arm, a signal for something, and _Aang_ straightens formally. “We would be equally honoured to accept your invitation.”

She hears someone else clear their throat softly, preparing to speak up when they’re all whisked away to the dining hall.

“Lord Beifong,” they say, “I’m afraid Avatar Aang will need a meat-free meal. He’s a vegetarian, see, it’s part of his culture.”

Twinkletoes’ heart does something skippy and his footsteps falter a little, but he only softly confirms what the first person said. Toph wonders what that’s about, tuning out her parents’ affirmations that they’ll have something for him entirely devoid of meat with no trouble or delay.

Once the dishes are brought in, Toph eagerly waits for the telltale _clink_ of porcelain before her to dig into her meal, but her father intercedes by asking the servant to blow on her dish so that it wouldn’t burn her.

She refuses to scream in front of guests, even though they’ve just watched her beat up a bunch of more experienced earthbenders. It’s a close thing, though, and she thinks she’d prefer to be embarrassed on her own terms.

(Not-Katsuro’s heart does a weird skippy thing too, but it settles at a slightly faster pace than it had been till now.)

“Please, allow me,” Twinkletoes says, and a second later, there’s a slight breeze before Toph’s face. _Huh_.

Everyone at the table oohs and aahs at the display of airbending – or so she assumes – and she’s secretly glad that the attention is turned away from her at the moment. Her mother speaks up for the first time, thanking him with an incredible amount of embellishments to his title that she has to stifle a laugh behind her hand. Across the table, she senses not-Katsuro’s heartbeat mirror hers, and cheers herself inwardly for correctly assuming he’s nobility.

“In your opinion, how much longer do you think the war will last?” her father asks. “It causes a dreadful mess with the trade routes. Terrible for business, see.”

The two others at the table whose names she doesn’t know stiffen at the words. Toph may be sheltered, but she isn’t stupid. She knows how insulting it must be to prioritise business over the loss of lives on the battlefield, but the reaction seems somewhat… _much_ , considering these are Earth Kingdom lives and not Water Tribe ones in danger.

“I’d like to defeat the Fire Lord by the end of summer, but I can’t do that without finding an earthbending teacher first.”

It’s her turn to go still.

_If this idiot reveals her secret…_

“Well,” her father blusters on, “Master Yu is the finest teacher in the land. He’s been teaching Toph since she was little.”

_Ha._

“Then she must be a great earthbender,” Aang says sincerely, and Toph wishes he’d stop talking. While not-Katsuro _had_ warned her about this, she doesn’t want her parents finding out about her secret lessons. “Probably good enough to teach someone else.”

She kicks some stone at him, and he cries out from the shock. _Wimp_.

“Toph is still learning the basics,” Master Yu cuts in.

“Yes, and sadly, because of her blindness, I don’t think she will ever become a true master.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” not-Katsuro says, and his heart immediately picks up speed. _Yikes._

“I’m sorry–”

There’s a moment of silence where only Toph’s knowledge of protocol helps her fill in the gaps – not-Katsuro, in hopes of keeping their cover, is probably asking Twinkletoes for permission to continue speaking lest he break conduct and insult her father. Yay for stuffy nobles, she thinks dryly.

“I was saying, um – it doesn’t sound right to assume that your daughter won’t be good at what she sets out to do because of her blindness. My own vision is impaired, but I’ve found ways to get around that in order to protect my charge and remain alert even with a blind spot that large.”

“My daughter is _twelve_ and _delicate_ ,” her father says coolly, and while Toph hadn’t thought it possible, not-Katsuro’s heart speeds up _more_ – but she can’t take any more of this.

“May I be excused,” she says curtly, not framing it as a request and not waiting for an answer. She’ll get a lecture for it later from her mother, but she doesn’t really care. She just wants _out_.

* * *

_In the initial months of his recovery from being horribly scarred, Zuko refuses to firebend for fear of the damage it might cause. While Piandao doesn’t dispute this on account of Zuko’s emotional state, Iroh argues privately that not bending would only impede his physical recovery and that, at the very least, intermittently bending at a basic or low level happened to be necessary for firebenders to remain healthy due to the way they create the element they bend instead of amplifying or bending existing amounts. Eventually, they manage to coax him into meditating with a candle every morning just to keep his inner flame burning, but beyond that, they make no move to ask him when he feels like bending again._

_Piandao does take up teaching him more sword-fighting forms, once he’s well enough, but they keep running into the problems that the new injury causes that aggravate Zuko so much: namely, his impaired vision and new imbalance due to the damage in his inner ear._

_“I can’t see it coming, so I can’t figure out where I’m supposed to be blocking,” he admits one day after tiring himself out during practice. Piandao sits next to him and pats him once on the shoulder before withdrawing the touch, just to indicate that he’s listening. “Any opponent I face will notice it first and take advantage of it.”_

_“You can sense other heat sources, though,” he points out. Most firebenders are aware of other heat sources in their vicinity, but especially powerful ones (or those trained rigoriously) can detect and identify individual heat sources with remarkable precision. “Wouldn’t that help?”_

_“The sword’s not hot,” Zuko mumbles, dejected._

_“I meant my hand. You’ll be able to sense where my hand will move, and based on how I’m gripping the blade, you can approximate how you can block or counter my strike.”_

_Zuko frowns. “It’s not so precise,” he says._

_“It could be, with training. Much like all the other things you’ve picked up over the years, such as sneaking around unnoticed or masking your voice.”_

_Zuko flushes. “The people who work at the theater are really nice,” he mutters. Piandao chuckles._

_“I know, Zuko. I’m just saying, with practice, it’ll come easier and better. It’s going to be hard, but given what you set out to do, leaving you with an open vulnerability would be ridiculous at the least.”_

_Zuko thinks about his offer for a minute or so before nodding resolutely. “What do I need to do?”_

* * *

The four of them are invited to rest in the Beifongs’ mansion, and Zuko is more than ready to accept it – he’s used to sleeping in inns while travelling and occasionally making camp along the roadside, but he’ll take a comfortable bed any day over them all. Sokka snickers at him when he flops down, face-first, into the comfortable mattress, but doesn’t tease him about his gracelessness as he systematically takes off his finery.

“Man, I wish we didn’t go through all this trouble to be fancy,” he mutters, and Katara declares her agreement loudly.

“I guess I didn’t realise how it helped me connect to our culture,” she adds. “Blue tunics are also worn in Kyoshi Island, which is where we say we’re from if anyone asks, but I didn’t think that armour would… well.”

“It’s fine,” Sokka says breezily, though there’s an undercurrent of _something_ that Zuko doesn’t want to think too much about. “I made enough fun about your bending, so it balances out.”

“I guess I haven’t been as considerate about parts of culture as I thought,” she replies sheepishly.

“No more than I have.”

Someone kicks at the doorframe, and Zuko hastily rolls off the bed, righting himself smoothly in seconds. The rest of his friends appear equally surprised to find the young girl from dinner – _Toph_ – at their door.

“Relax,” she says. “I’m sorry about what happened at dinner. I know they didn’t help you out, and I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

“It’s… fine?” Aang sounds confused. “Nothing wrong with storming out instead of taking your anger out on the wrong people.”

“Oh, I would have taken it out on the _right_ people,” she says bitterly. “I just didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Why don’t you want your parents to know about your earthbending?” Katara interjects bluntly. Toph shoots her an appraising stare, and though Zuko knows that she technically can’t see the older girl, he gets the sense that she’s still looking.

“You heard my father. He thinks I’m _delicate_ , incapable of doing basic stuff because I’m blind. It’s much more convenient for me to do this behind his back, when no one’s tailing me or waiting on me at every step.”

Katara nods, slowly. “We checked out Yu’s academy yesterday, it wasn’t too great. Aang said that he’d seen you in a spirit vision, which is why we were asking for you in particular.”

“I thought you just knocked at random nobles’ doors and asked for their kids to train him,” Toph replies in a voice thick with sarcasm. Zuko can’t help but chuckle softly at Katara’s affronted expression, and the young earthbender grins at him.

“You must’ve gotten through somehow, though,” she says. “My parents don’t let anybody stay over like that, they must really be impressed.”

“Well,” Aang points out, “I _am_ the Avatar.”

“Sure, and they’re snooty enough to turn their nose up at an Earth King.” She sighs. “Here’s the thing – even though I was born blind, I’ve never had a problem seeing. I don’t do it like you sighted people, obviously, but I can still tell when someone’s around and moving about, or what they’re doing. The accuracy of my senses depends on what the situation is, but it’s high enough to be pretty great.”

“You use your bending, don’t you?” Zuko asks. It’s only because _he_ does the same thing that he realises it, but Toph looks impressed.

“Yeah, actually. I can sense the vibrations on the earth and figure out where everything and everyone is. You, the tree outside the window, those ants on the windowsill.”

“The _what_?” Sokka whisper-yells, leaping away from the windowsill. Aang gently airbends the little creatures away to placate him, and Toph guffaws.

“That’s really cool, Toph,” Aang says earnestly. “And you figured out how to do it all by yourself?”

“Kind of,” she says. “I learned it from badgermoles. They’re the original earthbenders, and they’re all blind. Earthbending is a lifestyle for them, not just–” she waves her hand about vaguely.

“Sounds like something my uncle told me,” Zuko says softly. Toph blinks and shrugs.

“I don’t know about that, but my point is that regardless of my skill, my parents don’t understand. They’ve always treated me like I was helpless.”

Oh, if Dad were here, he’d have a bone to pick with the Beifongs as well. Zuko’s close to giving into his impulses and doing as much, but Toph clearly doesn’t want him to act on it, so he restrains himself from going against her wishes.

“That’s ridiculous,” he says quietly, lest he’s overheard. He’s spent enough years in the palace to still remember how conversations would easily be spread through the staff and reach unwanted ears, and he doesn’t want the Beifongs to know that their guests have been badmouthing them behind their backs. “Restricting you from earthbending means that you won’t be able to sense things around yourself. That sort of dependence they’re forcing on you…”

“Chill, Sparky. It’s not the best, but I can live with it.”

_You shouldn’t have to_ , he wants to say, but not everyone gets the opportunity to leave like he did, so he stays silent.

“Is this why you became the Blind Bandit?” Aang asks her. “So that you’d be seen?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why stay here where you’re unhappy?”

“They’re my parents,” she says sharply. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

She leads Aang outside to have a private conversation with him, and Zuko frowns after her for a minute before slumping back into the bed with a groan.

“Aang’s not wrong, though,” Katara says quietly. “We’re here now, so she could come with us.”

“She’s nervous,” Zuko says without meaning too. Off her questioning look, he adds, “Look, I know how it can be with parents breathing down your neck with expectations you can’t achieve. She’s worried about what’ll happen to her once she’s away from them. Her parents have been controlling enough that she hasn’t had many experiences with real life outside the Earth Rumbles. And a controlled environment for tournaments isn’t the best place to get them, yeah?”

“Well, yeah,” Katara accepts, dropping down next to him and looking pensive. “But why would her parents even do that, anyway? If she just told them that she could earthbend far better than they realise, they’d have to accept that she’s not as fragile as they think she is.”

“They’re not going to see it that way,” Zuko admits softly. “I can’t predict how they’ll react, especially because my own situation is still different from hers, but they won’t take it too well. People like that, they like to be in control of everything around them. Toph isn’t allowed anywhere out even with supervision, instead of just having a guide of some sort.”

“I can’t imagine parents being like that. Why don’t they see what it’s doing to Toph?” Sokka asks. “We’ve only spoken to her for a few minutes, but she seems miserable with how her life is.”

Zuko shrugs. “Probably because they want to pretend that they’re doing everything right. Accepting that Toph wants something else that extends past them means admitting that they’re wrong about her, and they won’t want to do that. Again, I–”

“ _My lords,_ ” someone cries, the door bursting open and the trio automatically reaching for absent weapons, “Lord Beifong sent me to collect you all – the Avatar’s been abducted along with Miss Beifong.”

They exchange a look, and instantly sprint out of the room.

* * *

_Piandao grabs Zuko by the forearm right as he sways and nearly falls on his face, and Zuko instinctively propels himself upright with the external support._

_“Are you sure you don’t want to try something else, kid?”_

_“I have to get this form right,” Zuko counters, anger lacing his words with an edge. “I keep falling even though I’m adjusting my balance like Uncle says. And without completing this form, I won’t be able to move onto the rest.”_

_“Has your uncle been showing you where to correct your balance?” he asks, because with everything going on, he hasn’t been able to keep up with Zuko’s firebending training. He pushes away the small pang of regret – it’s useless right now, and he can easily make up for it – and wats for his kid to reply._

_“He is,” Zuko says. “And it hasn’t been a problem till now.”_

_Piandao hums. Iroh had the right idea, but the reality is that he’s missed Zuko’s growth for three years, and while the man is certainly clever enough to find a close approximation of what he’d need, he simply hasn’t seen Zuko in a while and grown disused to his particular style of bending. Between Jeong Jeong’s training and his own lessons in the art of the sword, he knows how the kid works._

_“Do you mind if I tried to help with the form?” he asks absently, and Zuko nods with a slight frown._

_At his encouragement, Zuko steps into the first position and holds it steadily as Piandao moves around to observe it properly._

_“How much does the imbalance throw you off?” he asks, and Zuko blinks a few times, dropping his stance._

_“It’s mostly fine, if I’m standing or walking around it isn’t such a big deal. Turning around suddenly or getting up too quickly isn’t such a great idea anymore, at least until I find some other way to work around those. Umm…”_

_“What about running and jumping?”_

_“High kicks are worse. I can’t stick the landing, and tucking and rolling is harder. Running’s fine, though.”_

_Those are some important basics, Piandao remembers. “Anything else?”_

_“Spinning kicks,” Zuko says with a nod. “It’s – um. I feel dizzy when I do those.”_

_“Spinning isn’t a common firebending move, though, is it?”_

_“Not really, but this level does need it more than the rest.”_

_Piandao considers the situation thoroughly. “What if you grounded yourself with your hands? Pivot yourself on them instead of launching yourself off the ground completely. You’ll have to modify the form more, but we can talk to Iroh about that. I’m certain we’ll be able to figure something out.”_

_Zuko frowns and gazes along the training grounds, clearly mapping out the change. “A few of the steps, but – yeah. That might be better.”_

_“It’ll keep your upper body level,” he points out. “Less chance of getting dizzy. You’ll also be lower on the ground, so you could easily dodge something and get to your feet if you’re less prepared for a transition move.”_

_Zuko brightens at the words. “When can we start?”_

* * *

“I mean, I could probably break in and try to get them out,” Zuko gasps out as they all run towards the underground tournament arena.

“Nice of you to offer,” Sokka grunts, stumbling over a rock, “but I think it’ll only make things worse.”

They slow down when they reach the entrance, and Katara signals for Master Yu to open the gate with his bending.

“If the Boulder’s there, we’ll have to assume they brought backup,” Zuko murmurs under his breath. Sokka nods and surreptitiously warns Katara to keep her waterskin at the ready.

They’re close enough that they can hear shouts from the arena, so they speed up again, hands at their weapons and ready to draw them just in case.

“Toph!” Lao Beifong yells, and Xin Fu turns to see them all approach the other end of the arena. Sokka’s blood boils when he spots two metal cages hovering over the arena; he wants to toss Boomerang at the kidnappers without hesitation. Katara, seemingly sensing this, stops him with a hand on his wrist. He settles for holding up the sack of gold with a sneer.

“Here’s your money,” he spits out, tossing it at the man. “Now let them go.”

Xin Fu stoops down to pick it up and examine its contents, and once he’s satisfied with what he finds, gestures to someone they can’t see to lower Toph’s cage. The pulley mechanism shrieks as it slowly lowers the box, and Toph falls out when the bottom slides open. She instantly runs to her Father’s side, silent and looking _way_ more spooked than she had all day – which isn’t saying much, since she masks most of it, but Sokka’s an older brother and sees through it instantly.

“What about Aang?” Katara calls out.

“I think,” Xin Fu says lowly, lifting a scroll and letting it unfurl as it drops, “the Fire Nation will pay a hefty price for the Avatar.”

_A Wanted poster_ , Sokka realises, mentally kicking himself. He’d expected it to happen, but hadn’t anticipated that it would reach the interior parts of the Earth Kingdom like Gaoling.

“Now, get out of my ring.”

A nearby rumble – heh – alerts Sokka to the presence of other figures in the stadium. Nearly _all_ the contestants they’d seen earlier that day seem to be here, even – _why?_ – Fire Nation Man.

“Go,” Aang cries. “I’ll be fine!”

Zuko growls low in his throat and unsheathes his swords in a smooth move, his good eye flicking across the arena rapidly to look for easy ways to take them down. Sokka reaches for his boomerang, flipping it to the right grip, and Katara draws the water out from her waterskin.

“Toph, there’s too many of them,” she shouts, even as the three of them back up slowly. “We need an earthbender, we need _you_!”

“My daughter is _blind_ ,” Lao interjects, and Sokka wants to strangle the man. “She is blind and tiny and helpless. She cannot help you.”

“Yes, I _can_ ,” Toph snarls, and roughly pushes past him and Zuko. The firebender looks after her, astonished, before exchanging a glance with Sokka and sheathing his swords again.

Sokka follows suit and straps his boomerang back up, and Katara returns her water to its container. The three of them watch her in awe as she faces off all the earthbenders closing in on them, turning her nose up at Xin Fu right where he stands, even though she can’t see him.

“Let him go,” she commands. “I beat you all before, and I’ll do it again.”

She cracks her knuckles loudly to make her point, and the Boulder huffs.

“The Boulder takes issue with that comment,” he says.

The Hippo, yet another contestant from earlier, yanks Aang’s case off its chain and tosses it aside to the arena, the metal screeching horribly as it slides across rock. Sokka almost moves up to Toph, but before he can do anything, she raises her hand.

“Wait. They’re mine.”

With that, she kicks the ground and throws the arena into chaos. They watch her beat up the multiple earthbenders – all at least thrice as big as her – charging at her with astounding ease, and when Katara runs off to free Aang from the box holding him, he exchanges a nervous look with Zuko.

“Are all girls this terrifying, or is it because she’s twelve and I’m used to Katara?”

Zuko laughs, the sound slightly hysterical. “You know what? It could be either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking about bending being used as accommodations had to be one of the best things about this chapter. The other best thing, of course, was just Toph in general.
> 
> Quick note about my update schedule (again, sorry): I've been stuck on a couple of chapters this past week, which means I'm a little behind in my own goals - however, I have figured out the tiny details of the next ones so I should have a much easier time working on them now. It might take me another couple of weeks to get back on track, though, so I'm not sure whether I will be updating ch17 next week unless ch19 is complete.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... is more than just exposition I promise

“I get it now,” Toph says. “You keep thinking like an airbender. Stop doing that.”

“But I _am_ an airbender,” Aang protests.

“Not right now, you’re not,” she tells him. “You keep dodging and deflecting, and while that’ll keep you alive, you’re still not _bending_. You haven’t moved a single pebble since we’ve started this.”

“Maybe it’s your methods,” Katara suggests doubtfully. “Aang responds well to a positive teaching experience. Lots of praise and encouragement.”

“I’ll praise him when I see something that’s worth it,” she snarks, and Katara _almost_ falls for it before she snaps her mouth shut. Toph chuckles.

“I almost had you with that one,” she mutters. “But I’m serious.”

“Just try to gently nudge him towards the right direction,” Katara responds mildly.

“Gee, thanks, Katara, but I don’t think the earth’s going to nudge him any more than the Fire Nation soldiers he’ll have to fight.”

“I’ve been holding my own!”

“No, Twinkletoes, you’ve been letting them do all the work for you. As far as strategy goes, it’s not terrible, but it won’t work for earthbending at all. You’ve got to face it head on, not come at it from a different angle or twirl around.”

It’s at this point that Zuko, splayed out in a sunny spot like some depraved cat, speaks up. “She’s got a point, you know. Firebending’s a lot like that, with plenty of attacks rather than defences and deflections. Earth isn’t as aggressive, but it’s not like air and water.”

“ _Thank_ you!” Toph gestures vaguely in the limp firebender’s direction. “So when I say head on, I mean like _this!_ ”

With that, she charges at a boulder and pummels right through it. Katara holds up a hand to stave off the dust flying past her, and Zuko simply rolls over to avoid getting it in his face. Katara wonders if she shouldn’t just join Sokka and Iroh and watch them play Pai Sho, instead of dealing with this. Whatever _this_ is.

“Woah,” Aang mumbles, awed. Almost instantly, he yelps and leaps out of the way as a rock crashes onto the ground right where he’d been standing. “ _Hey!_ ”

“Awareness is key, Twinkletoes,” she sing-songs. “Now, I want to see you lifting that rock without your airbending. Use earth if you have to – but nothing else.”

“It’s _massive_!”

“Avatar Kyoshi could bend more than that when she was still a beginner,” Toph says dryly. “And so will you.”

“I’m not Kyoshi, though,” Aang says morosely.

“Tough luck. I’m not asking you to bend the mountain, just this tiny boulder.”

“It’s _not tiny_!”

“I’m not sensing any rock lifting, Twinkletoes.”

Aang grumbles under his breath as he stomps over to the giant rock – and while it _is_ huge, Katara still finds his petulance a little amusing.

“Don’t you have something to do?” Toph barks, and with a jolt Katara realises she’s talking to her.

“Not particularly,” Zuko replies instead, surprising a guffaw from their newest friend. “But if you need more space, I appreciate the warning.”

“Wouldn’t want you melting into a puddle of lava or something,” Toph agrees. “You too, Sugar Queen. This might take a while.”

“Try not to permanently damage the World Spirit.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now beat it, Sparky.”

Katara snorts under her breath at how easily Zuko takes being bullied by a twelve-year-old as she helps him up, and when she points this out to him, he laughs.

“It kind of reminds me of my friends at home,” he says. “One of them’s just like Toph – this is how they show affection.”

Katara’s a little surprised at this revelation, obviously. She’s _more_ than a little confused, technically, but she doesn’t care about technicalities at the moment. “I thought she hated me.”

Zuko stares at her incredulously. “I mean, she’s not overly fond of you yet – but she doesn’t _hate_ you. She even gave you a nickname. That was my friend’s thing too, everyone they liked ended up getting one of those.”

“Huh. I guess I didn’t realise. I never had a lot of friends my age, besides Sokka. It’s only now…”

“I get it,” Zuko replies softly. “It was like that until I was maybe eleven. I was isolated from anyone my age except my sister’s friends, and it was only after my dad took me in that I started to figure it out. It’s still pretty confusing, to be honest,” he adds.

“I suppose it is.”

“Something else is bothering you,” Zuko observes after a minute or so of silence. “Care to share?”

Katara huffs. “I guess I haven’t been the best at welcoming Toph either,” she admits. “She’s independent, which is great, but doesn’t help us out when we ask her to. She keeps saying something about pulling her own weight, which – we’re a team. We all do that, but we’ve got to help each other too, and it’s _really_ annoying me now. She’s part of the team, of course, but she doesn’t act like it.”

“I guess she doesn’t realise what being a part of a team entails,” Zuko says quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s been sheltered and fussed over her whole life,” he points out. “I’m not saying you’re _wrong_ , even though she technically doesn’t have to contribute much to be part of a group,” – and though he doesn’t mean it that way, it _stings_ – “but I’m not so surprised that she’s hyper independent about stuff now that she’s free.”

“I…”

“I’m not the best person to talk to about this,” he adds. “Uncle’s going to be a lot more helpful in that department. I have no idea how to solve this with you, I’ll be honest – but you’ll figure it out.”

“At least one of us is confident,” she mutters dryly, and he laughs.

“Yeah, I’m just surprised it’s me.”

* * *

_“What did you do this time?” Mridula asks him, and Jeong Jeong hisses slightly when the soaked fabric swipes over his hand._

_“I –_ ow – _didn’t think that the hawk would scratch me. It’s ours – Piandao’s and mine–”_

_“I know–”_

_“ – and apparently he’s just back from a sensitive mission and needs my help. I got a bit distracted while reading the letter –_ ow!”

_“And, let me guess,” she says dryly, “you forgot about the hawk?”_

_“Unfortunately.”_

_“You brought this on yourself,” she says airily, inspecting the now clean wound. She pulls out a roll of bandages and slices up a bit to wrap his hand, and he winces one final time when she tests the tightness of the fabric._

_“Like I said, Mochi never did this before.”_

“Mochi?”

_“Blame Zuko for the name.”_

_Mridula simply nods and lets it go – they’re all used to Jeong Jeong talking about Zuko at this point, and it’s no secret that he and Piandao are together. He has a small suspicion that they’re all running a betting pool of some sort in this safe house, but he’s not sure what kind, and frankly could run a betting pool of his own about their guesses. But he digresses._

_“I’ll be leaving in a day or so,” he informs her, and she nods. “I cannot specify the details of this mission, but I need you to take charge of the others. Reorganise as you need to and contact the rest of the Order if you must, if that is what you have to do.”_

_Mridula’s eyes widen as she takes this in. “You’re serious.”_

_“Of course I am. The Avatar is back; the Northern Water Tribe invaded and Omashu conquered. I believe Sozin’s Comet will be upon us soon, and would aim to end the war before that deadline.”_

_“I – I know_ that _,” she stutters in shock. “But – spirits, can the Avatar actually master all the elements before the end of summer?”_

_“He will have to,” Jeong Jeong responds mournfully. Yet another childhood stolen by the Fire Nation, along with an entire culture. “But he will also have help, which I intend to give.”_

_“You’ll have to be careful, sir. If Zhao reported sighting you, you may have an active bounty on your head. Look out for more than the Fire Nation.”_

_“I understand.”_

_And when he says this, he really does mean it – just not the way she does._

* * *

“Sokka, are you alright?”

Katara laughs openly at her brother as he flops onto the ground. “Toph wanted Aang to train and the bending kept waking him.”

Zuko chuckles. “No, I can hear it from here – this reaction’s a little dramatic – _Uncle!_ ”

“You cannot afford to be distracted in battle, nephew,” he says pointedly. “Anything – and anyone – could take you by surprise.”

“I could also take them by surprise,” he mutters petulantly, and she giggles. “For the record, you said I only had to practice my katas, not fend you off.”

“I did tell you earlier that such things would happen as we near your Master’s sets,” Iroh says pointedly. “Though if you’d like, we could amend things slightly and get you used to fighting against other benders as well.”

“You mean I could spar with him?” Katara asks.

“Zuko already knows how to oppose firebending masters,” Iroh tells her. “At this point, he’s not learning anything new from that, save his own forms.”

“Which I still have to practice, by the way!”

“I don’t see you doing them, nephew.”

A loud groan, and the familiar _whoosh_ of flames punctuating regular _thuds_ falling into a routine. Katara almost wants to watch, but thinks that she should focus on their conversation first.

“I didn’t have to take any examinations when I was declared a master,” she says. “The waterbenders up North did say that traditionally, it’s how it’s done, though. Yue and I are… exceptions, I guess?”

“I would assume as much. But that does not invalidate your mastery.”

“No, I know that, but… is it the same in the Fire Nation, with firebenders?”

“I believe so,” Iroh says. “Usually both occur simultaneously – first a series of drills are conducted, and the examinees are divided into batches of ten – or fifteen, if there are many lined up for the same day. The examiners will then call out the forms for them to perform with perfect technique – though this part was modified several times following Sozin’s rule, of course. It was a lot more effective before the changes, with several factors such as the heat and direction of the flame, and whether the shifts between forms is smooth or choppy.”

Katara eyes Zuko stumbling through his form, then stopping to correct himself slowly, and nods. “Yeah, I can see why. Does it have to do with the inner fire that you’re talking about?”

“Everyone has an inner fire,” Iroh explains. “It’s just more literal with firebenders. But yes, should one’s inner flame stutter between forms, it can affect more than the strength of the fire they release. But after the drills, a master duels with the student to test their adaptability, or assigns them a specific task to perform with firebending. The former was only implemented after the war began, and you can imagine why.”

“Would you have to use the Master’s forms when doing that assigned task you mentioned?” Sokka asks from the ground, blinking the weariness from his eyes. Katara kicks his hand lightly, and he glares up at her.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” is all she says, and he grunts in reply. Iroh chuckles at the interaction before turning to Sokka.

“Not necessarily. It’s why that method is far less popular, now. Usually, it would be a more mundane task that required creativity and innovative use of flame, as opposed to duelling.”

“Right,” Sokka mutters. “The war corrupts everything.”

“Unfortunately,” Iroh agrees. “That being said, I’m considering testing Zuko on all of these once he reaches the end of instruction.”

“How long d’you think that will take?” Katara asks.

“Not very long,” is the answer. “A week at most. My nephew might have forgotten that he’s nearly done with learning all the forms he needs,” Iroh adds, amused.

“You’ve been training him the whole time you guys were on the road,” Sokka realises, eyes as wide as the holes she remembers creating in the ice whenever they went fishing with their father as kids.

“Oh, yes.”

The two siblings cackle loudly, startling Zuko. To his credit, he recovers instantly, catching his form before it can slip, and shifts into the next stance with far more grace than the last time. He does, however, send them a dirty look that sends them laughing even harder. Katara catches him rolling his eyes a little and chuckling a little anyway despite returning to his forms.

“Wait, Iroh,” she says after a while watching Zuko bending in silence, “did you want me to duel Zuko when he takes his examination instead of you?”

Iroh shrugs. “It wouldn’t be overly long, only as an exercise so that I’m certain he can face off any other type of bending. I’ve watched him hold his own against earthbenders as well, and I must admit that I am not overly comfortable witnessing it in close quarters anyway.”

_His son_ , Katara remembers. “I get what you mean. I couldn’t stand to see Zuko’s bending for a while when we stayed with Jeong Jeong. I knew – I _know_ he wouldn’t hurt me or anyone else with it, but…”

“It’s hard to remember,” Iroh completes.

“I guess I’d like to try sparring with Zuko,” she muses aloud. “It’ll be different from fighting him, since I know we’re both not out to hurt each other.”

Iroh accepts this with a hum. A loud crash in the distance shocks them all into stillness, with a massive ripple of earth sends them (Zuko) toppling over. The firebender swears, and Sokka grunts as he catches himself before he falls flat on his face.

“AANG, WATCH IT!”

“It’s not me!” is the responding wail. “I’m trying – _ack_!”

Katara squints over to the training ground, not bothering to get up. “Are you guys a _little_ worried about what’s going on over there?”

“Kind of,” Sokka says, in unison with Zuko’s “not really.” The boys both exchange a startled look, before her brother adds, “She seems to know what she’s doing, though. And I don’t want to get on the bad side of her rocks, see?”

She huffs and doesn’t respond out of principle, mostly because he’s right – she doesn’t want to be pummelled by Toph’s rocks either.

“ _KNEES HIGHER, TWINKLETOES!”_

“I think we should step in,” she murmurs.

“Nah,” Sokka says. “He needs to learn earthbending, right? And us stepping in would mean that we’re superseding his teacher’s authority. Ergo, we stay here.”

“You would be a right fit for Fire Nation courtrooms with that sort of reasoning,” Iroh chuckles, and Sokka looks far more alarmed than Katara thinks is necessary.

“Politics? No thanks, I’d rather dive into an ice fishing hole.”

“You forget, I can just bend the water out. That threat is no longer effective,” Katara says haughtily.

“Betrayed by my own sister,” Sokka gasps theatrically. “Zuko, you’re my only hope.”

The firebender doesn’t move an inch. “And you say _I’m_ the dramatic one,” is all he says.

Katara bursts out laughing at the affronted look on Sokka’s face.

* * *

_So Jeong Jeong steals a ship._

_He thinks it’s an accident, anyway – he’d been trying to steal supplies on it and set it loose, because he still knows how the ships work even if he hasn’t worked on one in years. His technique’s a little outdated, but he manages. A steamship would be too much for him to commandeer on his own, though, so he decides to let it move along its course and considers his next step. The further away from this port he can get the ship, the better._

_While he waits for the next Earth Kingdom port to arrive at the horizon, he wonders why Piandao needs him for such a specific task – surely he’d have more connections and ways to get around the place without WANTED posters of his face flying about…_

Idiot, Shu Jing’s landlocked _, his mind supplies. Shu Jing, while being located near the base of the central volcano that the capital was built on, still happens to be nestled in a ridge some ways uphill, and, as it happened, far enough away from the coast that it would only draw more attention towards his leaving and sailing away. And while he normally wouldn’t want to risk Jeong Jeong’s capture, Piandao seems to be in the midst of something big that only his involvement would be helpful for. A former Admiral and soon-to-be-Captain of the Fire Navy_ would _be best suited for the cause, after all._

_Never mind that what he’d pulled with Piandao’s papers to work around his desertion had gotten him landlocked as well. Fortunately, he’d only been assigned to teach firebending, as much as he had loathed the job. The 41 st had been the first command he’d been assigned in years, and he’d assumed it to be an offshore mission._

_It’s not often that Jeong Jeong is_ truly _angry, despite his temperament. But when it comes to Fire Lord Ozai, he can always spare some rageful venting at the man, for hurting everyone and everything around him without a care in the world save to control it._

_A commotion some ways away snaps him out of his thoughts, and he leans carefully over the side of his ship to squint down at –_ pirates _?_

_“What are you imbeciles trying to do?” he asks before he can stop himself. “This ship’s got nothing of value, and I’m the only one in it.”_

_They probably wouldn’t believe him if they were actually competent, of course. He’s heard legends about the Marquess of the Eastern Sea; he knows the perils of piracy and has fought them off several times before in his Navy days. Fortunately for him, he appears to have found the dullest of the lot, and manages to rope (heh) one of them into a negotiation for the price of the boat. Never mind that they clearly outnumber him by a ridiculous number and the best he could do is flee on a lifeboat._

_So he sells the ship, and flees on a lifeboat – which conveniently happens to run by a firebent motor, and leaves the pirates to wonder what to do with their new steamship with no firebenders on it._

_And, as he leaves the ship, he’s a few bags richer in gold and has a hilarious story to tell Piandao when they meet up again._

* * *

“Wait, so what _does_ constitute as a council in the Southern Water Tribe?”

Katara blinks at the question. “I mean, it’s not quite as formal as Iroh described it, but the Chiefs of all the villages periodically meet up to make large decisions that affect us as a whole. Technically, we’re the Southern Water _Tribes_ , plural, but the name never stuck, for some reason.”

“Translation, I think,” Sokka adds, seemingly content to listen to her.

“Right. I told you how those meetings work, and that sort of meeting was the one where everyone decided to get involved in the war effort. I think it took three moon cycles before they actually decided on when to leave, and another to set all the plans in place.”

“It’s not fast,” Zuko observes, and she raises an eyebrow.

“And your council is?” she challenges. “When it’s not being ruled by a dictator, I mean.”

“That’s fair.”

Sokka chuckles. “I remember I was allowed to sit in on one of those meetings – that’s why I knew that the men were the only ones leaving. I couldn’t speak up since I wasn’t of age yet, and a few other kids my age were watching with me. I’m not sure if it was because we were the oldest, or because we were the kids of the Chief from each village – but that’s what I remember.”

“Your dad has the highest authority, though, right?” Zuko asks, frowning.

“Yup. Gran-Gran explained why, a few years ago,” Sokka adds for Katara’s benefit. “It’s not _my_ fault you didn’t ask her.”

“I did ask her! I was there with you!”

“Whatever you say, little seal-shark.”

Katara huffs, but she’s grinning as she continues her explanation. “Dad was chosen by the other chieftains to be a… High Chief, I guess? There’s no official rank like you have in the Fire Nation, but he could have the final say on major decisions and act as the highest representative for our people in case of any negotiations. If we had different Chiefs agree on different things…”

“I imagine making deals with Earth Kingdom generals would be a lot harder than it probably already is,” Iroh agrees. “Is this an emergency grant of power, then?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Kind of? Actually, I think Sokka knows better about this than I do.”

Sokka shrugs nonchalantly. “Only a little more than what you already said. Basically, if there’s an emergency and the others aren’t available, Dad can act on behalf of them as long as he reports back to them soon. Otherwise he has as much power as the rest. It’s like hiring an ambassador more than anything, I guess. And it only works because there are so few people.”

Iroh frowns at this. “I’m aware of the devastation the Fire Nation caused to your people, but I was told that the Southern Water Tribe had a powerful navy force.”

Sokka shrugs. “I guess if you condensed it right, each ship would carry the men of a village. And our ships are designed to be efficiently managed by a few people instead of overcrowding, so…”

Iroh nods and falls silent. Katara hates thinking about how the raids affected their people – even before she was born, the populace of the South Pole had already been dwindling rapidly. The final raid had killed even more people, and had been the last straw that opened discussions with other villages about actively allying with the Earth Kingdom instead of doing… whatever they’d been doing, before. Their people _had_ been fighting before, Katara knew that. They hadn’t been locked away like the Northern Water Tribe; they’d actually helped out before they had to return to defend their homes.

_And now there’s hardly anyone left_ , she thinks, but refuses to say. With luck, the war would be over by the end of summer.

With luck, she might be able to find out what _peace_ really means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Bitter Work' was a hard episode to think a plot point for, especially since I'm reworking 'The Chase'. For clarification about the timeline, right now, the Gaang + Iroh are running parallel to Jeong Jeong's scenes. There's little to no difference in the sequence, they both happen simultaneously, mostly.
> 
> ~~can you tell I wrote this chapter while working on assignments~~
> 
> That discussion of politics is brought to you by: leaving a bunch of humanities students alone to discuss whatever they want as they try not to worry about certification exams (aka my friends and I in 12th grads). All discussions led to political topics (or romance, but I usually dipped out of those conversations lol) somehow.
> 
> Lastly, about my update schedule: I'll probably be updating every other week for the near future, until I get my stuff sorted out. Whenever that may be. I'm really excited for the next arc, though, so see y'all then!
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little shorter than what I'm aiming for these days, but I didn't want it to drag on for too long considering there's not much about this episode that needs changing.

“He’s not assertive enough,” Toph declares as she throws herself to the ground beside Zuko, who quickly snuffs out the candle before it can topple over with the ripples in the ground.

“Who?”

“Twinkletoes. He can bend somewhat, but he’s still behaving like an airbender.”

“Stubbornness is in his nature, though,” Zuko says. “I guess you just haven’t found that part yet.”

“Oh, no, Sparky, I found his _stubbornness_. It’s his assertiveness that I take issue with.”

“I don’t…”

“Yeah, yeah. Fire’s all about power, right? Pushing forward, cutting past things, and so on? Earth’s like that, but with immobility. You’ve gotta refuse to bend and bow sometimes, and Earth is that manifestation within a person that stands up for themselves.”

“Aang gets plenty assertive,” Zuko says dryly.

“Well, it’s not nearly enough. I might have to plot this carefully, since he likes running away from confrontation instead of facing it head on. I mean, he’ll have to fight the Fire Lord at some point, right? What’s he going to do then?”

Zuko’s heart skips a beat, and like she senses it, Toph tilts her head a little, frowning.

“You make a good point,” he says slowly. “And I don’t want to talk over your decision, but as the Avatar I’m pretty sure his job is more to _mediate_ than fight.”

“When he does, though,” Toph starts, letting the sentence trail off unpleasantly. “When he has to.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them sit in silence for a while, and Toph idly tosses a rock up before her and catches it before it can fall to the ground.

“So, tell me,” she says, “what’s so special about firebending that everyone’s so freaked out by it? Except the whole ‘we’ve fought firebenders because they’re part of an evil army’ thing.”

“I really want to say that the army isn’t evil, but it might be more accurate to tell you that it’s not always full of evil people. It’s filled with _apathetic_ people, which makes it way worse.”

“Those apathetic people are all the higher-ups, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbles. “Anyway – uh, the flames are both a light and heat source. If you sit close to the campfire, you can feel the warmth, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I’m not finished,” Zuko says dryly. “Fire that’s tame like those campfires and hearths also has a warm glow to it, it can be comforting to a few people. Or so I’m told. It can be really beautiful outside combat.”

“To those who can see it?” she guesses.

“Oh, no – I mean to those who can feel it, actually. Everyone has an inner flame, it’s just – how did Uncle say it? – way more literal with firebenders. Like, we can actually bend ours. Which sounds obvious now that I’ve said it.”

“I think I get the point,” she says, growing more amused by the minute. “So if everyone has an inner flame, what part of your body is it? Is it what everyone tells me about chi?”

“Kind of,” Zuko says slowly. “Your inner flame, uh. It’s at your core, and chi flows all through and around you. Chi – I guess one of my friends might call it ambient energy, an aura of sorts.”

“Eugh. Are they a fortune-teller, or something?”

“Or something,” he says, heart skipping a bit with amusement. Toph thinks he might be the most expressive person she’s ever spoken to. “Your inner fire, though, it’s the part of you that makes you alive.”

“Cool,” she says. “Did you mean that to be more dramatic, or…?”

He laughs. “It sounds like a bad monologue, I guess, but – no. I wasn’t trying to be dramatic. But… you wanted to know how to help Aang, but I’m not sure what I can do to about it. Katara has her own methods of teaching, and I’m still not a master so I can’t really say anything about it.”

She guffaws. “Yeah, Sparky, I’m not babying him at every point. I guess I’ll have to find some other way to convince him, huh?”

Zuko doesn’t reply, but that’s okay, because she hadn’t wanted him to anyway.

* * *

_It hadn’t been the easiest choice to hide the survivors of the massacre of the 41 st at a remote forest, but shoving past sailors and pilots at a port, Jeong Jeong remembers why the forest had agreed with him so well. Why the solitude in Shu Jing did too._

_Piandao would tell him that it was utter nonsense, that he was a notorious gossip and a troublemaker to boot, but Jeong Jeong’s used to his accusations, not entirely unfounded they may be._

_Spirits, he misses him._

_It was good to receive his letter, of course, to be asked to help, but he misses the real deal in a way he hadn’t let himself think of in three years. He’d thrown himself into defending his people, then, and devoted any time he had to spare with the Order of the White Lotus whenever messengers had come through. Still, his heart had ached for his family, and now that buried ache is back with full force._

_Cutting the war short by sneaking into the palace and taking the Fire Lord’s life is becoming an increasingly tempting offer, but Jeong Jeong restrains himself from giving into fantasies of assassination plots due to all the political ramifications of such a move. He’s always been supremely uninterested in court life, but even_ he _knows that the only way people would accept a change in the line of rule is if Fire Lord Ozai is defeated in rightful battle or combat._

_The prospect of Zuko succeeding the man is becoming steadily more likely, and Jeong Jeong… doesn’t know how to feel about that. The kid never expressed an interest in ruling before, and even now seems to be content with helping the White Lotus around – but future Fire Lord or not, he wouldn’t step back from helping his people and doing what he’d need to in order to be successful in that endeavour._

_He hopes another solution will show itself before the end of the war – one that wouldn’t crush the last bits of childhood that his kid had left._

* * *

“Did Sokka ever return from hunting?” Katara asks Zuko, who shrugs noncommittally.

“I haven’t seen him since he left, but he could have come back,” he answers apologetically.

Katara sighs. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” With that, he returns to his meditation, wincing slightly when a tremor nearly tips the candle right onto him. She doesn’t fancy getting hot wax all over herself either, so she leaves, trying not to feel annoyed with her brother’s absence.

Momo chitters from where he’s half hanging from her shoulders, and she sighs. “I don’t know why he _has_ to hunt here,” she says. “I mean, we have plenty of fruits and berries around here that we can use, plus Zuko and Iroh brought a lot of the other things we’d need when they picked up supplies a few days ago. Who cares if we skip meat for one day, when we have everything we need?”

She understands why Sokka’s obsessed, really. Hunting’s important in their lifestyle back home, with meat being a major source of nutrition for everyone. Meat, and fish, and what she now knows to be an overall very _briny_ combination of food. She gets that he feels the need to provide for them, in a way – though she’s trying to talk to him about it, she knows it’s his way of looking out for them. Still, despite all that she teases him, Sokka’s not a bad hunter at all, and now that he isn’t back…

“Sweetness, back up!” Toph cries, and Katara leaps back with a yelp as a large rock crashes down right before her. “Watch where you’re going!”

She bites back an ineffectual retort, even as Aang pokes his head out from a cliff-face to shout an apology. “Have either of you seen Sokka anywhere?”

“Nope,” Toph replies curtly, and Aang mimics the response – albeit far more politely.

“I’ll see if I can fly around and find him when I’m taking a break,” he offers, which she appreciates. “Maybe he just can’t find a lot of animals around here, this place seems kind of abandoned.”

“You may be right,” she says. “Thanks, Aang.”

“Snoozles will be fine,” Toph says breezily. “But Twinkletoes needs to learn earthbending if we all can continue to be.”

That’s a bit cold, Katara thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. “I think you guys should take a break,” she starts, but Toph is already shaking her head and lifting her hands in an unfamiliar bending move.

“No, Sugar Queen, he needs to figure some stuff out before he takes a break.”

The authority in her voice shocks her a little, but she supposes that she doesn’t know much about earthbending at all to argue. “Don’t push him too hard,” she says curtly, and does her best to not storm away.

Momo takes off into the sky before her, tail flicking across her face as he whizzes away, and she sighs.

“Something on your mind, Master Katara?” Iroh asks some ways away from her, and she starts badly.

“I – yeah. There’s a lot going on,” she stammers, and pauses, unsure of what to say next.

The old prince offers her a cup of tea, as she’s realised he is wont to do, and lets the silence flow between them peacefully. Eventually, without further prompting, she starts to talk.

“I guess I’m worried about Aang. Toph’s right about him having to master all the elements, and he seems to be having a really hard time with earthbending now. He was a natural at waterbending, and I thought – I thought he’d be the same with the rest too.”

“It is natural to assume that,” Iroh acknowledges calmly. “However, it takes different parts of oneself to bend each element. Earth is a lot like fire in the way that air is like water: to move a rock, one must be as firm and unyielding as the element they bend. Fire is assertive, aggressive even, and while earthbending lacks that onslaught, they both have the same resolve.”

Katara thinks of Toph and Bumi, and General Fong. They’ve all been varying degrees of helpful to outright harmful, and while she shouldn’t compare them to anyone else, she can’t help but think that Iroh, Zuko and even _Zhao_ happen to be equally driven as the former group.

 _What_ they’re determined about is the only thing that sets them all apart.

“And air and water are… fluid,” Katara observes. “Adaptable. Changing.”

 _Push and pull_ , she hears the ocean whisper, and thinks of a cold night out away from her village, struggling to bend a stream of water away from the vast amounts surrounding them. _And earth is stagnant – no, it’s_ steady. _Firm. Unyielding. Fire rushes forward, but earth waits for the right opportunity to strike._

She meets Iroh’s gaze, gratified at the approval she finds in his eyes. “Exactly.”

Katara may be a waterbender at heart, but she’s always been stubborn too. Sokka has always complained about it, and she knows it’s true. She probably wouldn’t be the best earthbender in the world, but she thinks that she understands what it means to be one.

Hopefully, Aang would too.

* * *

_The port is as unassuming and easy to lose himself in as all the others._

_Even when he’d been an Admiral in the army, Jeong Jeong’s favourite part of sailing all over the waters surrounding the Fire Nation had been stopping at ports and slipping away from his guards. Eventually, his men had caught on to his preferences to remain alone and unseen, and had stopped shadowing him (for the most part, unless they were in hostile territory) in the short periods they docked. It’s been years since he’s last done this, but it comes to him as easy as breathing._

_Piandao was not the only one who’d taught the Blue Spirit his skills._

_And his army training kicks in once more as he watches the shadows out of his peripheral vision for anyone who attempts to sneak up on him._

_Fortunately, no one does._

_Unfortunately, someone walks right up to him and invites him for a game of Pai Sho._

_The person in question seems to be around Zuko’s age, with long hair and carefully structured, shapeless clothes. Excellent for blending in, but only to the casual eye. Anyone else trained in such deception would pick up on the forced relaxation in their frame, the way their eyes flick about the harbour, alert for any danger. Something in their hair catches the light, and as Jeong Jeong goes to reject the invitation, he spots the engraving of a white lotus in the gleaming band that holds it together._

_“I don’t see why not,” he says instead, and allows the young initiate to lead him into a more clandestine location._

_Well, this would prove to be interesting._

* * *

“I don’t think threatening one of the last surviving artefacts from his culture is going to motivate Aang into out-stubborning you, Toph,” Katara says bluntly.

Toph looks a little guilty at this, evidently only having put it together now, but stands firm at her point.

“I’m not going to destroy it,” she says, exasperated. “And I think you’re wrong. He’ll stand up for himself if it’s so important to him, and this seems like the quickest thing to get to him. Unless you’d like me to do the same to _Appa_?”

“No thanks, Toph,” Katara mutters. “I’d really like you to stop,” she adds, and Toph shakes her head.

“Not happening, Sugar Queen. You standing up for him doesn’t help him all that much, especially if I cave in. I’ll make sure nothing happens to the staff, though,” she says firmly. Katara believes her instantly – Toph’s a lot of things, but Katara can usually tell when she’s being sincere, even if she doesn’t know her very well.

“I guess I can’t talk you out of it, huh?”

“Right on,” the earthbender agrees, and pauses for a moment, expression thoughtful. “You’re not half bad, actually.”

“Thanks,” she says, amused. “After you’ve done with today’s lesson, do you think – no, wait–”

“Spit it out, Katara.”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Katara says slowly. “And I want to get to know you better, since you’re a part of our team now. I know we have our differences, but–”

“I’d like that too,” Toph murmurs under her breath, and then, louder: “I won’t say it again.”

Katara beams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the best things about writing Zuko and Toph is that I can be as direct with their dialogue as I want to be. Both of them don't mince words - that bluntness just means it's less work for me to polish their dialogue! Unless I'm being stupid about phrasing, which I caught three weird instances of while editing this.
> 
> I love Katara and Toph so much, but after a lot of trials and failures, I realised that having their initial conflict didn't really make the most sense in this au - Iroh's a responsible adult, war crimes or not, and no doubt he'd step in before things get really serious and help them talk it out with each other. It's a conversation that'll happen offscreen, though, now that Katara has made the first step to open communication.
> 
> Three guesses as to who this mysterious initiate is 👀👀
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed it!


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